


Masterchef: Storybrooke

by mrgoldsdearie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4363976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumbelle Masterchef AU - The eight finale home cooks for the Masterchef cooking competition, face off in team and individual challenges to win the title of Masterchef and $100,000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RipperBlackstaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/gifts).



> This entire verse is a love letter to ripperblackstaff! She prompt this idea to me while we were fangirling over Masterchef and Gordon Ramsay :) This first chapter doesn’t have any rumbelle interaction, but it is a rumbelle fic. Another thing I think I must stress is that Emma and Hook are in this fic, but there will be no capatinswan love feast here! NEVER! EVER! EVER!! So with that said, I hope everyone enjoys this new verse. Don’t hesitate to let me know what you think. Happy reading.

A team challenge is taking place under the cloudless skies of one of Storybrooke's exquisite wineries in the, Enchanted Forest Valleys. The top eight home cooks of Masterchef, the worlds biggest cooking competition, are working hard to prepare oyster appetizers for one hundred guest. The eight remaining contestants are separated into two outdoor kitchens and each kitchen has the winner of the last challenge at the helm.

Captaining the blue team is Killian Jones, a one handed fisherman and self proclaimed expert on seafood. He had first pick in choosing his team and adopted the people who he thinks will lead him to victory.

Belle French: A librarian and self taught baker, who adores cooking for her father. She's a specialist with vegetables, using them anyway she can, and gardens her own at home, alongside a colony of honey bees.

Zelena Greene: A journalist with a passion for creating sauces and brilliant with food plating.

And, Leroy Katz: A miner in the Storybrooke coal mines. He doesn't have a defined cooking style, primarily putting anything and everything together that he thinks will work.

The blue team has smoked most of their oysters and now Killian presents a plate to one of the three judges of the competition.  

"What the hell is this?" Five star chef, Regina Mills, gripes to the blue team for the hazardous state of their oyster appetizer. She's a celebrity chef that has hosted a plethora of cooking show and has turned her name into a food empire. "Is this a joke?" She addresses the team captain.

"No, ma'am," Killian Jones replies, picking up the plate of two shelled oysters resting on a bed of fennel salad.

"You have one hundred tables to serve and your cooking up appetizers for freaking ants! No one will be satisfied with this!" She snatches the plate from him. "Fennel and smoked oysters? What are you thinking?"

"I thought they would work well together."

"They don't." Regina tosses the plate in the trash. "Now is not the time to invent something new. The guest are not guinea pigs," she barks. "Did your whole team agree on that disaster you just tried to serve?"

"Aye," he lies, nodding his head.

Regina crosses her arms, shifting her weight to the left. She doesn't believe a word of what he says and knows some people on his team would never agree to something like this. "Everybody." She claps her hands to gain the team's attention. "Did all of you agree to this horrendous dish?"

"No, Chef," the blue team answers honestly.

Regina cuts her eyes back at the team captain. "Why can't you just stick to classic flavors and elevate them? They're called classics for a reason," she scolds. Killian's pattern of not thinking through his dishes can be aggravating. "Get your team together and fix the shambled ship you're currently running. This isn't the way to win." She storms away from the table.

Killian has less than fifteen minutes to put together another appetizer for the guest arriving at the Masterchef 100th episode special.

##  *******

Heading the red teams kitchen is Ramsay Gold. A father and wealthy man who doesn't need a day job to make a living, but he is a collector of vintage kitchen supplies. He's a beast with proteins and isn't afraid to show it. There isn't an animal this man can't cook. He had second pick during the team selection and he didn't get the person he truly wanted, Belle French, who he thought would have been a great asset to his team, but Killian had first pick and he chose her.

Killian didn't choose Belle because he thought highly of her skills, he only picked her just to spite Ramsay. After seeing how they worked together in a previous team challenge and having one of the best dishes of that night, Killian knew Belle was one of the people Ramsay greatly wanted. So he took the opportunity to make sure that didn't happen.

Without having the person who he thought would have had fresh ideas for today's challenge, Ramsay was able to get Emma Swan on his team.

Emma is a mother and private investigator, who cooking style is one of pure instinct. She cooks with a habit of throwing things together and is almost always able to make them work.

Along with Emma, the red team also has Elsa Frost: a family girl that loves her Scandinavian roots and ties her cooking with her heritage.

And, Ruby Lucas: Diner waitress and sriracha queen. Everything she makes gives a kick in the taste buds with spice.

Regina steps up to the red teams kitchen along with another judge, Graham Hubert, by her side.

Graham is a super star chef who started his career training under Regina and quickly rose to fame. He currently owns pubs and fine dining restaurants across the country.

Both top chef's examine the red teams, baked oysters with wild mushroom ragout, and give their opinion.

"Ramsay?" Regina calls for his attention.

"Yes?" He says, as he drops a few duck breast skin side down on the flat top grill, preparing them for the main course, and gimps on his cane to meet up with the judges at the service table.

"Make sure you watch the salt content on the topping of your oysters. It's bordering on being too salty," Graham comments, as Regina nods to agree. "And keep the plating clean and simple." He points out a smudge on the brim of the plate. "We didn't expect you to be a filthy pig."

Ramsay glares at the judges, swallowing down the sharp reply tingling at the tip of his tongue. The comment about being a pig was completely unnecessary and he wants nothing more than to lash out and show the judge what a filthy pig can do, but he knows that's not the kind of behavior he wants to display during the course of the show. So he brushes off the judge's words instead. He doesn't want his son, who might be watching at home, to see that side of him on television. Ramsay takes a deep breath and replies to Graham swiftly and calmly. "Yes." He nods and circles around to address his team. Ramsay has never been the captain on a team challenge before, but he's going to keep the teammates in line. "Hey," he barks out and the group of women turn their concentration to him. "We need to adjust the seasoning on the oyster topping," he orders and points to Elsa. "Your platting is sloppy." Ramsay hobbles to her side and rapaciously plates an oyster dish. "Do it like I showed you. We're not losing over clumsy plating."

"Alright I get it." She wipes the fingerprints from the plate with a clean towel. Elsa didn't want to be on Ramsay's team, she knows he has a tendency to be combative.

"I'm not losing another team challenge, especially since I'm the captain. I can't do another pressure test." He doesn't want his son to see him fighting to stay in the competition once again.

"Okay." She rolls her eyes. Elsa just wants him to leave her alone so she can finish her job. "I get it. I don't want to lose either."

"I know you don't ," he lowers the tone of his Scottish brogue and slides his finished plate in front of Elsa. "Like I showed you, please."

She closes her eyes and nods. Elsa is relieved that he lowered his intensity.

Ramsay helps her with one more plate, then quickly oversees the adjustments being made to the mushroom ragout and afterwards, he returns to the flat top to finish cooking the duck. Ramsay is determined to win this challenge and he'll work every station himself, if he has too.  

"You have less than ten minutes," the final judge, David Nolan, announces. He's a restaurateur who has opened some of the foremost fine dining restaurants and hotels around the world. David isn't a chef, but he knows what exceptional food is and how it should be served. While the other two judges focus on the contestants in the kitchen, David will be in the dining area getting the guests opinions and making sure they're having a positive experience.

The contestants of the blue team have now banded together to fix the debacle they tried to serve earlier. After a quick debate and coming to a consensus, Killian takes the suggestion of Belle French. The team gathers the remainder of the oysters, that haven't been smoked, and are now making a fried oyster salad with a lemon dressing. With just minute to spare, the blue team is now running like a well oiled machine.

In the last ten minutes of the team's preparations, the guest start to flood into the event area and time ticks closer to service.

"Five... Four..." Regina counts down as she looks at her watch. She'll be expediting the two kitchens, along with Graham as her second set of eyes. "Three... Two... One! You're now open for service."

Both kitchens are in high gear as they begin to pump out oyster appetizers to the hungry guests.

##  *******

Just finishing the order for table seven, Belle French calls for a waiter. "Service please!" She works alongside Zelena Greene as they plate the salad appetizers together.

"Out of my way, bookworm." Zelena's hips collides into Belle's, forcing her way in front of the finished dishes.

Belle catches herself from tipping over and glares at Zelena with a vacant stare.

"Service please." A bright smile stretches across Zelena's face, as she hands the dishes over to the waiter.

"What the hell Zelena?" Belle wants to give her a taste of her own medicine, but she doesn't think it's best to stoop to Zelena's childish level.

"What did I do?" Zelena turns away and takes the bowl of freshly fried oysters from Leroy, then sets up another plate of salad.

"You purposely bumped into me."

"I barely even tapped you," she replies nonchalantly. "Quit being so dramatic and help with the plates." Zelena thinks of Belle as her biggest competition and needs her out of the game now. She'll do anything to throw Belle under the bus, especially after the way she saw Ramsay glancing upon her during the last team challenge. Zelena knows there's nothing between Ramsay and Belle, but how he looked at her and the smirk she sent back to him, made Zelena's blood blaze hotter than the sun's core. If Ramsay is going to make googly eyes at someone, it's going to be her.

"Ugh!" Belle sucks up Zelena's blatant rudeness, and for the sake of the team, continues her job. She'll confront Zelena about her actions later.  

##  *******

The red kitchen is in a bit of chaos. Emma is pulling the baked oysters out of the oven with lightning speed, but Elsa can't keep up with making the plates. The poor girl is being buried in seafood.

"Fuck." Ramsay sighs out as he noticed the state of the service station, then the disapproved expression on Regina's face and he instantly limps to the front to help. "Ruby, take the duck off the grill.” He reassigns her from shredding the cabbage for the main course.

"Sure thing." Ruby abandons the mandolin and removes the duck, placing them into a deep stainless steel banquet tray.

If Ramsay wasn't the team captain, he could have stayed in his meat grilling nirvana, but he is the team captain and must try to help everyone. Even if it feels like he's babysitting. "You're doing a good job, Elsa," he says, even though that's not what he's really thinking. Elsa's station look like a fucking battle ground. But, Ramsay knows that complimenting members in a team is a way to increase morale and get the group moving faster. He'll say anything for the sake of winning this challenge.

"Thanks,” she sighs in relief. “I'm just not used to working like this in a professional kitchen and for large crowds."

"It's alright, Dearie. I'm not going to let you drown." At least not while they're working together.

##  *******

After Ramsay helps get Elsa back on track, both kitchens are neck in neck sending out appetizers to celebrity chefs, former contestants of Masterchef and their families, but finishing the appetizer service first isn't what truly matters. Each guest will taste the dishes from both teams and vote for the one they think is superior.

"How did you enjoy the blue teams oysters?" David Nolan asks a former contestant of season two.

"The salad was quite refreshing for having something fried on it," Archibald Hopper answers, taking a sip of white wine. "The oysters were fresh and crispy and the dressing had that zing of citrus. It was near perfect."

"So you're feeling confidant as to who you're voting for?" David folds his hands.

"Oh, yes... As you can see, I ate everything from the blue kitchen."

"That's great. I hope you enjoy the next course as well." He turns to the table behind him and talks to another former contestant from season three, who has finished everything from the red kitchen. "So I see you preferred the red teams oysters."

"Yes." August Booth nods. "I adore baked oysters and the topping on these were the best." He shifts in his seat. "The smoky crispy bacon with the mushrooms were just exceptional. I savored every lip-smacking bite."

"Excellent to hear. We'll be serving the duck entree soon." David smiles at everyone at the table and continues his rounds with the other guests.

##  *******

All of the appetizers have been served and now there's a fifteen minute break between courses for the teams to make finishing touches on their entrées. The blue team will be serving a crispy duck breast with a port wine reduction and glazed carrots. While the red team is serving a seared duck breast with creamed cabbage, chestnuts and caramelized pears.

As each judge tastes the duck dish of the red team, a cloud of black smoke emerges from the other kitchen and Chef Regina dashes over to see what's burning. "Holly hell!" Regina opens the oven and smoke instantaneously punches her in the face. She jumps back from the heat, waving her arms to clear the thick cloud. "No one saw this happening?" She coughs the smoke out of her lunges, wiping her watery eyes.

The team stares astonished at the state of their oven and everyone knows exactly what's inside it.

Regina snatches the towel hanging from Leroy's shoulder and removes the tray of carrots from the oven. The team's entire side dish is burnt to a crisp. "What the fuck?" She crashes the tray down on the counter. Regina tries not to swear on a family show such as Masterchef, but sometimes the words slips from her lips, specifically, when her temper is heated. "This is celebration, not a fucking cremation," she bellows, glaring over the team.

"I guess no one was paying attention," Leroy replies, as Regina tosses the blackened tray into the trash.

"You guess no one was paying attention?" She barks back. "Whose job was it to watch the veg?"

Everyone looks at each other, not wanting to admit that they've failed at their job.

After a solid minute of awkward stares, Leroy finally confesses. "It was me, Chef. I was distracted, just trying to do too many things at once, I guess." Leroy shrugs his shoulders.

Regina lowers her brow and her right eye twitches. She doesn't think he seems concerned about the mistake he has made. "Do you even care?" She shrugs her shoulders, mocking his unemotional gesture. "You can go home right now if you've given up."

"I do care, Chef. I care a lot and I haven't given up,” he replies wholeheartedly.

"Then prove that you do and stay focused,” she conveys sharply. “Set the timer next time. There's a reason why they put them on ovens."

"Yes, ma'am." He nods.

"You have five minutes to pull your team together, Killian." She heads to the front of the kitchen.

"I will, Chef," Killian acknowledges.

"I don't need you tell me that you will." She stands at the head of the kitchen, crossing her arms. "I need you to show it."

"Aye." Killian gathers his team. They need to come up with a new vegetable to serve alongside their duck. "I'll take any suggestion right now. We don't have much time before service."

"What about potatoes? Or a salad," Belle suggests the first thing that comes to mind. "These are probably the obvious choices, but we don't have many."

"I really didn't want to make potatoes and we already served salad," Killian replies, shaking his head in disagreement. She doesn't have a bad idea, but he doesn't think it's a good one either.

"Cauliflower purée?" Zelena speaks up.

"I don't know about it with the duck. And cauliflower is something that's not to everyone's taste."

"Everyone's taste doesn't matter, Belle," Killian speaks sharply. He's starting to really feel the pressure of the situation. "It's something we can get out quickly."

"But a salad is quick..."

"Shhh..." Killian cuts Belle off before she could finish and he looks to Leroy.

Belle's jaw drops and she stands with her hands on her hips. She can't believe how he disrespectful cut her off.

"Start cutting down the cauliflower and boiling them," the team captain orders Leroy.

"Okay." He rushes to the pantry station and collects all of the cauliflower.

"Zelena, I need you to keep an eye on the sauce you made. We can’t have it breaking while we're waiting for the purée."

"That’s not a problem." Zelena winks at Belle with a self-satisfied grin, as she slithers away, proud that Killian took her idea, instead of Belle's.

"Belle, you go around and help anyone that needs it."

"Alright then." Belle thinks that the team captain is underestimating her, but she isn’t going to let her feeling of uselessness stop her from helping the team.

"You can start off by giving me a hand with the duck." Killian picks up a banquet tray with his only hand and passes it over to Belle.

Five minutes fly by quickly and Chef Graham announces that dinner is being served. "The guest are hungry and waiting. Let's start pushing out some food." He stands at the red teams service station and calls out the first order. "Four duck, table ten."

Ramsay and his team are ready for the flow of orders. They quickly come together and prepare the dishes for the table.

As Graham signals the order for the red side, Regina calls out the same order in the blue kitchen. "Four duck, table ten," she sounds off.

The blue kitchen is at a standstill, waiting for the water to boil so the cauliflower can be cooked. Every other element for their dish is ready to be served, but they can't send out an incomplete plates.

"I need to start seeing some food!" Regina yells and snaps her fingers at the slow moving kitchen.

"It's coming, Chef." Killian dashes to Leroy's station. "What's taking you so long?"

"The water isn't boiling," Leroy frantically replies.

Killian takes all of the cauliflower florets and dumps them into the still water, slamming the lid on top. If only Leroy had a top on the heating water, it could have been boiling. Now Killian is learning a lesson the hard way, that Leroy doesn't do very well under pressure. "I'm not losing over veg," he mumbles and steps to the oven to make sure the duck isn't over cooking.

Meanwhile, the members of the red team are filling orders and sending them to the guest in a timely pace.

"I need more duck breast," Elsa calls out, placing cabbage onto the white  serving plates.

Ruby removes the tray of duck resting on Ramsay's section and takes them to the front to slice, then she takes the perfectly cooked duck to Elsa.

"Everyone is doing a fantastic job," Ramsey encourages his team.

"I don't think the other team has sent anything out yet," Ruby comments.

"Let's not worry about them and just focus on what we're doing," Emma replies, carrying a pan of caramelized pears to the service station.

"Okay, fair enough." Ruby shrugs and continues to help Elsa with plating.

Back in the blue kitchen, Regina waits impatiently for the first table's food. "I need something right now!" She demands. This wait is getting out of hand and she won't hesitate to start skipping tables if they've already been served by the other team. "The red team has served four tables already. If people can't taste your food, they can't vote for it."

Killian can’t stand the idea of possibly losing votes and makes the drastic decision to start sending out incomplete plates. There really isn't much left for him to do. He rather have people taste what's been made, than not having them taste it at all. "Belle?" He removes the duck from the warming oven. "Start setting up plates. We're going to send a few without the side."

Belle nods and rushes to the service station and dresses the duck with the sauce, sending them out to guest, incomplete.

##  *******

Almost half way through the service, the blue team finally have their cauliflower purée ready to serve. Having whipped up the purée as fast as they could, the team is well aware that this isn't the best side dish the competition has seen, but they serve the cauliflower, hopping that this doesn't further hurt their score.

David Nolan makes his rounds among the guest and gains a bit of feedback from their point of view.

"I actually like the duck from the blue team better than the red," a young man at table sixteen comments.

"Is that the plate you're voting for tonight?" David crosses his hands behind his back.

"I'm not sure. I'm a little torn on my decision." He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I didn't get the side dish and I see other plates being served with it. So it's kinda insulting to be served an unfinished dish."

"That's a valid concern, sir, and I'm sorry you were served an incomplete dish."

"It's not really your fault, but thank you." The man nods.

"You're welcome, sir." David smiles, as he slowly leaves the table and glides up to another table to talks to more guests. "How did you enjoy your meal, ma'am?" 

"I thought both proteins were lovely." The lady at table twenty-one answers. "But their accompaniments are another matter.  I thought the purée on this one." She points down at the blue teams plate. "Wasn't very smooth, it was really fibrous."

"I'm sorry to hear that ma'am."

"And this one, the cabbage, it's very light on the seasoning. A bit of salt could have helped it along the way. Other than that, they're both very good dishes."

"Its nice to hear that you enjoyed elements of both dishes and I hope your decision isn't too tough when it comes to voting."

"I think have made my choice already."

"Excellent." David flashes a kind grin. "Enjoy the rest of the evening."

Over the course of the next hour, both teams work hard to serve their best food to all of the guest at the Masterchef 100th episode celebration. Now that everyone has been served, the votes are cast and counted for the top dish of the night.

After the voting, a five tier birthday cake, that was prepared by Chef Regina, is carried out by two waiters onto a table sitting on a small stage where the three Masterchef judges await.

The judges stand side by side, watching the cake being delivered, as the celebration guest explode with cheers.

"Thanks to everyone for joining us tonight." Chef Graham talks over the enthusiastic crowd and waits for them to calm. "Let's say thanks and bring out the people that prepare the food for this wonderful celebration."

The guest applause, as the eight home cooks make their way from the kitchens to the small stage. Each member of the teams take their place on stage with the three judges standing between both teams. Most of the contestants smile and wave at the guests sitting at their tables. Everyone, except for Ramsay Gold.

He stands by the members of his team, leaning on his cane, thinking about his performance in the kitchen and hoping that his son will see the teamwork he did tonight.

"All of the votes have been counted and the losing team of this challenge will face the dreaded pressure test." Regina addresses the crowd. "One of you will be going home tonight." She pulls a white envelope out of the pocket of her pant suit jacket. "Now for the winner of team challenge..." She pauses, holding her breath, further building up the anticipation of the contestants.

The contestants await anxiously to hear the results. Both teams had their blunders in the kitchen, but the decision is solely based on the food.

Regina lifts a champagne glass from the table and smiles at her fellow judges. "The winner will be announced back at the Masterchef kitchen."

The contestants on stage groan over the further suspense they must endure, while the judges chuckle among themselves and the guests cheer.

David pops open a bottle of champagne and fills the glasses on the table. "Happy 100th!" He gleefully announces, lifting a glass to the crowd and everyone repeats his words with merriment.

"Now, let's cut this cake!" Regina blows out the candles.

##  *******

The Masterchef kitchen is built like an arena where home cooks battle to win the grand prize. The studio kitchen is lined with 22 pristine cooking stations, armed with the world's premium cooking equipment and a large pantry stocked with the freshest fruits, vegetables and proteins, all on hand for every challenge. Cooking in a well stocked kitchen such as this, is a dream come true for any chef or serious cook.

The remaining contestants of the cooking competition stand at the head of the massive kitchen, with the cooking stations at their backs, waiting in anticipation to find out the winner of tonight's team challenge.

Regina, David and Graham enter the kitchen and stand on a small stage before the contestants.

"Tonight's challenge was a tough one for any chef, yet alone, inexperienced home cooks," Graham addresses the contestants. "But, the guest at the event were able to chose a clear winner."

The kitchen is dead silent and full of tension, almost everyone is jumping out of their skin to hear the results.  

"And the winner of the team challenge, with 63 percent of the votes, is... The red team," David discloses and claps his hands. "Congratulations red team."

The women of the winning team rejoice over their victory with flamboyantly cheering and embracing each other arms.

Ramsay Gold stands alone and almost motionless, with a faint smile curled upon his face. He's a little shocked that they actually won.

Emma expends her hand to Ramsay, showing him her appreciation. She has a feeling no one else on the team will.

He gazes at her hand for a moment, then takes it into his own. "Thanks." He shakes her hand with a firm grip and instantly let's go.

"Head up to the balcony, red team, you've done a fantastic job," Regina adds.

The blue team stands in despair as their opponents make their way to the balcony that oversees the entire Masterchef kitchen.

Chef Graham steps down from the stage and hands each member of the blue team a black apron. Now the group is no longer a team, but individual home cooks about to fight to keep their place in the competition.

"You all know what's about to happen next." Graham takes his place back on the stage, between Regina and David. "That's right, it's the dreaded pressure test." He glances over the contestants and his eyes fall on Belle. "Belle?" he acknowledges her.

Belle flinches and quickly stops the nervous picking of her nail polish, dropping her fidgety hands to the side. She didn't expect to be called upon.

"You look like you have something to say. What happened with your team tonight?"

"Umm..." She hesitates for a moment and looks up to the balcony, then decides not to hold anything back. "I would like to say it was the lack of leadership." She faces the judges. "But what happened tonight wasn't competently Killian's fault."

"Then whose fault was it?" Regina asks.

"A lot of the fault can be placed on Leroy. He let the carrots burn and that's what crippled our team."

"Those are some harsh words, Belle. Do you agree with what she just said, Leroy?" Regina slips her hands into her pockets.

"Of course I don't," Leroy snaps defensively. He never thought Belle would be the one to throw him under the bus. "The blame lies solely on the captain. He had us running around doing everything. I was so busy I couldn't keep an eye on the oven."

"If you were so busy, than setting the timer on the oven could have saved your team," Regina states boldly, tired of hearing his excuses. "The leadership could have been a bit more organized, but that wasn't the only problem. I've never seen a team so fragmented and even childish at points." She glares directly at Zelena. She saw the way Zelena bumped into Belle tonight. "I think you were all doomed from the beginning."

Belle silently agrees with the words of the judge.

"There's is some good news at the end of this dark tunnel," David divulges. "Not all of you will have to cook in tonight's pressure test."

"That's right," Regina nods. "Only three of you will have to cook and one of you will be safe from elimination. The person deciding who is safe tonight will be your team captain, Killian Jones."

Killian looks down the line at his former teammates, with a devilish grin upon his face. He has their fate in his hands.

"One more thing, before you make your decision." She quickly adds. "You can chose to save yourself."

"That's what I want to do, Chef." He instantly replies, with no hesitation. "I'm saving myself."

"Interesting move." She raises an eyebrow and looks to her fellow judges. "You've chosen to save yourself from the pressure test, so you can head up to the balcony with the others."

Killian winks at his competition as his makes his way to the safety of the balcony.

Zelena aggressively rolls her eyes and sighs out heavily.

"What are you thinking, Zelena?" Graham asks.

"He should be down here fighting for his spot in this competition. He was the captain and a captain should always go down with his ship." Her face redden and illuminates like fire, as she stares at Killian with daggers in her eyes. Zelena has plans to gun for him next. "That was a bitch move," she snarls through her teeth.

Killian grins and chuckles from the balcony. Her words can't take away the joy he's about to have from watching them fight like animals for their places in the game.

"Maybe you will survive this pressure test and move on to show Killian that what he did tonight was in fact a bitch move," Graham comments.

"I will be moving on just for that reason, Chef."

"We'll see, Zelena," Killian shouts from the balcony.

"Zelena, Belle, Leroy." David defuses the situation, turning the focus back to the competition. "Please, take your places at your stations."

The three contestants walk to their cook stations, where they find ingredients waiting for them.

"Sitting at your stations are the exact same ingredient to bake a birthday cake," David announces. "Tonight's pressure test is for you to bake the best cake of your lives and each cake must be decorated for a birthday celebration."

"Aside from the ingredients before you, you will have access to a limited pantry to make your cake stand out from the others." Regina point to the clock above them. "You will have 90 minutes to bake, frost and decorate your cakes." She pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. "Your cook time starts... Now!"


	2. Episode Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birthday cake Pressure Test begins and one of the home cooks is eliminated from the competition. Ramsay Gold and Belle have an odd encounter in his bed room and the Mystery Box challenge begins with a shocking surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for taking to long to update. Somethings got in the way, I got sick and I started writing these little fluffy fic about the characters of The Gold Motel.... I just got so side tracked during this update and most of it was my fault. So here is Episode Two. I hope on one has forgotten about this story and I also hope you enjoy. Happy Reading!!

The three home cooks participating in tonight's elimination Pressure Test, immediately begin working on the most important birthday cakes of their lives.

Belle French quickly creams the sugar and butter together in a counter-top stand mixer, so that the ingredients are light and airy for her triple layer lemon cake with lemon curd spread between the layer and a simple frosting. She has made this cake many times in the past and knows that her recipe is solid. It's a complex cake that she's hoping that the judges will see her ambition to win by making something a bit out-of-the-box. She powers through mixing the batter together, tastes it, and gets her cakes into the preheated oven with just ten minutes under her belt, being the first to have her cakes baking.

"That's impressive, French, but that doesn't mean you have this test passed already," Killian Jones comments from his comfortable position up in the Masterchef balcony.

"If you were down here with me instead of sitting pretty up there, you'd be shaking in your fishing boots over how fast those cakes hit the oven," Belle comments with a crooked grin curled upon her face. She's extremely confident in her baking abilities and knows that there's no way Killian could ever make a better cake than her. After firing a comeback at the former captain of the blue team, Belle rushes back to the pantry and gather more ingredients from the limited baking choices the judges have allowed for this pressure test.

##  **~*~**

Chef Regina steps down from the small stage at the head of the Masterchef kitchen, making her rounds to get a closer look at the contestants baking and a little taste. She heads to Leroy's station first and observes his technique.

Leroy’s station is in shambles as he fumbles with the stand mixer, trying to get the mixing bowl in place before Regina stops in front of him.  

Regina can tell that Leroy is panicking, things don't look to be going very well for him. “If you make it out of this pressure test, who do you want to see going home next?” She calmly asks, as she dips her tasting spoon in the silver bowl of his classic vanilla cake batter.

He takes a look up at the safe contestants in the balcony, eyeing the person he's gunning to send home next. “Ramsay Gold,” Leroy replies, then bends over to place his cakes in the oven.

Ramsay stares down coldly when he heard his name spoken. He had a feeling he was a threat to Leroy, then again, he thinks he's a threat to everyone. He snickers as he watches Leroy stomping around the kitchen like a baby elephant, nearly bumping into the cameraman who was only trying to get a close up of the food. Ramsay thinks he has no finesse in the kitchen and looks like a man that's coming unglued.

“Why? Is he your biggest competition?” Regina tosses her plastic tasting spoon in the trash.

“No way! I can beat him with my eyes closed.” He opens a box of room temperature cream cheese for the frosting and drops it into a mixing bowl. “It’s because he doesn't need to be here. He’s not fighting for a new life like the rest of us." He turns the mixture on too high, but quickly lowers it and scraps the cheese down from the side of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Baking is clearly not Leroy's strong suit and he desperately tries to hide his nervousness, but still manages to continue his unfriendly bantering. "Ramsay can shit a hundred-thousand dollars and he probably has the home phone numbers to all the major cookbook publishers. He doesn't need this competition at all."

Regina turns to the balcony and glances up at Ramsay, wondering if Leroy's words has struck any nerves. “Is that true?" She holds in her laughter, trolling the contestants is one of her favorite things to do. "Can you really shit a hundred-thousand dollars?”

Ramsay leans a little further over the railing. He wants Leroy to hear his every word. "I haven't done it in a while," he smugly answers the chef, with a chuckle in his voice. “But I can."

Leroy glares at the balcony with disgust painted on his features.

"I can shit enough to buy Leroy out of this competition.”

"You can't buy me out," he heatedly replies, pointing his rubber spatula up at the balcony.

"Everyone has a price, Dearie. I'm sure I can shit out yours."

Leroy curls up his lip and ignores Ramsay's comment. He doesn't have time to go back and forth with someone he thinks is a waste of time.

##  **~*~**

Zelena Green is the last to get her cakes in the oven, quickly tossing the devil's food cake batter inside with twenty minutes of the challenge gone. She knows she's cutting it a little close to having her cakes out and cooled in time to frost, but she continues working without breaking a sweat or worrying about what the other contestants are doing. She plans to win the challenge and not only to impress the judges, but the very handsome Ramsay Gold as well.

"You all have one hour left. Cakes should be starting to come out of the oven soon," Chef Graham announces from the head of the kitchen, then turns to his fellow judges. "Who do you think is in the most danger tonight?" he speaks softly.

Ramsay can see the judges discussing to each other, but can't hear what they're saying from his position at the balcony. He's seen enough episodes of Masterchef to know that they are debating the contestants chances of winning.

"I really like underdog stories and we certainly have one here with Leroy who's probably eaten more cakes then he's baked," David Nolan answers Graham. "But he's extremely nervous and I don't think he's going to come up with something pretty, but I am rooting for him to have something to show to us."

"I'm hopping he can pull it off because right now it's looking pretty dismal," Regina comments.

"Zelena and Belle both seem to be in the zone, they're focused and know what their doing. Zelena did put the cakes in after everyone else, but she might make it and I'm expecting something amazing from Belle. She's the last baker here, right?" Regina and David nod to answer Graham's question. "That what I thought. So I'll be looking for whatever she does to be elevated higher than the rest."

##  **~*~**

Time flies by as the three contestants start to pull their cakes out of the ovens, now they must cool and frost them, then add a decorative design.  

Belle carefully pipes the lemon frosting on the top of her lemon curd filled cake, then artfully adds the candied lemon zest and candles as her finishing touch. She believes this to be the best cake she has ever made. It's definitely the most beautiful.

Ramsay thinks Belle's cake is very eye appealing and it would be the one he'd want to try most.

Zelena tried to make spun sugar to place neatly on top of her cake, but was unable to execute it properly. She boiled the sugar too long and it wouldn't cascade into thin delicate sugar strands. All she ended up with was a huge gloopy mess. She scrapped the idea and decided to decorate the chocolate cake with shaved chocolate.

Leroy discovered his cakes were extreamly under-cooked after they have already cooled and he immediately panics, putting them back into the oven, baking them twice.

"At the rate you're going. It really does look like you could beat me with your eyes closed," Ramsay taunts Leroy. From the look of his botched cake, Ramsay knows Leroy has no chance and is looking forward to finally have him out of the competition. He thinks he's  another step closer to taking home the prize for his son.

Leroy ignores Ramsay and continues working frantically. With ten minutes on the clock, he frosts his piping hot cakes with the cream cheese frosting and it starts to melt all over the cake pedestal. The poor man is in a frenzy trying to salvage this mess, spreading the oozing frosting all over the cake and wiping down the pedestal to keep it from getting sticky. There isn't much to do to fix the disaster in front of him, so he tops the cake with the chocolate Masterchef 'M' logo that he made and showers it with rainbow sprinkles.

The second hand ticks as the three home cooks rush to get their cakes on the display table and Chef Graham counts down the final seconds. "Five... Four... Three... Two... One." The three home cooks makes it to the table just in the nick of time. "Time is up," Graham announces.

The Masterchef kitchen is eerily quiet as the eyes of the judges and the safe contestants stare down upon the Pressure Test competitors.

David folds his hands behind his back and steps to the table, beginning the judgment. "I'll start with you." He stands in front of Belle and gives her cake a scrutinizing eye. "Visually, your cake is stunning."

She draws in a deep breath, floored for an instant. "Thank you, Chef," she nods with a smile.

"You have a very level top on the cake and it's frosted evenly around. Even the candied lemon zest looks amazing."  

"Thank you so much," she beams ear to ear. She has a good feeling that she isn't the one going home.

David eases forward and blows out the candles, then picks up the knife and cuts into the moist, soft, cake. He can feel it's smooth texture through the knife. "What did you make?" He places a large slice onto the plate.

"What I have is a lemon cake with lemon curd between the layers."

As his fork slices through the cake, David can't think of a single negative thing to say about it. He takes a small piece into his mouth and savors the taste of the fresh bright lemon. "It tastes just as good as it looks."

Belle’s smile grows larger as she looks up to the balcony and her eyes fall on Ramsay. She doesn't have a clue why she stopped to look at him.

Ramsay quickly turns his head away, breaking the brief connection between them. He isn't sure what queued her to glance in his direction, but whatever it was, he didn't like.

Belle turns back to the judge and keeps her attention on the tasting. She knows she'll be taking her place on the balcony soon. Maybe that's why she had the urge to look in that direction.

"But you already knew that the cake was delicious, " David continues to say.

"Yes I did, sir," she replies, with a nod.

"Great job, Belle." He turns away, with a crooked grin, and stands back with his fellow judges.

Graham and Regina approaches the table and they taste Belle's cake as well, giving it equally high praises, then Graham returns to his place on the stage, leaving Regina to tastes the next cake on her own.

Regina steps over to Leroy's cake, sitting in the center of the table and glares at the catastrophe that he has the gall to call pastry, then she hoods her eyes up at him. Any ounce of joy that was lit in her eyes after tasting Belle's cake has faded. What currently sits before the five star world class chef, is a joke, and she isn’t laughing. "Explain yourself."

"I have a vanilla cake with..."

Regina abruptly cuts him off. "That's not what I meant."

Leroy stares into the void of the baked flour and sugar that could mostly likely be his ticket home.

"Well!" Regina barks.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he answers.

"How about the truth."

Leroy crosses his arms, shifting his weight and rolls his eyes up at the contestants in the balcony. "It is what it is," he mumbles.

"How disrespectful." She shakes her head at his shameful display. She thinks he already has one foot out of the door. "You know what? I'll give you the truth," she states boldly. "Your cake is a disgraceful joke. You frosted it while it was still hot, so it's melting like an ice cream cone. I've seen kids decorate cakes better than this, but the real kick in the balls is that you had the nerve to put the Masterchef logo on it." She picks the chocolate 'M' off of the cake and holds it out for him to take.

Leroy takes the melting chocolate from the chef and holds it while she continues to chew him a new ass hole.

"You have all of these problems and I haven't even tasted it yet. Let's not waste your time and get right to that, since you're obviously in a rush to get home." Regina hastily picks up the knife.

"Chef, I ..."

"Don't even try it." She interrupts him again. "Your time to speak is up." She pushes the knife down into the dense overcooked cake and pulls out a slice. "Look at that. The layers are uneven and there's no frosting in the middle." She slams the cake down on the table. "I'm not even going to taste it." She storms away, leaving Leroy Katz in complete embarrassment.

Ramsay cover his mouth with his left hand and lightly chuckles into his palm. He does this so that if the camera was to cut to him, his son won’t see that he's laughing at Leroy's expense.

David and Graham do what Regina couldn't and they taste the desert dry cake with overly sweet frosting, thinking to themselves that they wish they hadn't. They each comment on the taste of the cake, the technical flaws and the way Leroy managed his time, then David heads back to the stage.

Chef Graham makes his way over to Zelena and spins her cake pedestal to observe the chocolate cake from all sides. "It doesn't look too bad." He shrugs his shoulders. "And what will I find when I cut into it."

"It's a devil's food cake and what you should find is chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate," Zelena answers confidently. After what just happened to Leroy, she knows whatever problem her cake might have can't be worse than his.

Graham arches an eyebrow and nods. "That's straight to the point."

"I like to be that way."

"Well, let's get straight to the point and taste this cake." He cuts smoothly through the rich chocolaty cake and places the slice on a plate, then he takes a bite. "This is exactly what you said." He licks the frosting from his lips. "It's chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate. It's delicious, but it just a tad under-cooked."

Zelea nods to agree. She knows she was stressed for time.

"You were the last to put your cake in and you rushed to get it out. Just a few minutes more and this would be perfection."

"Thank you, Chef."

Graham returns to the stage and the other judges step down to taste the devil's food cake. They give her their honest option then leave the table somewhat satisfied with Zelena's attempt.

Graham stands with his hands in the pocket of his brown leather jacket and address the three Pressure Test contestants. "We need a moment to deliberate." At this moment all of the judges leave the kitchen together and enter the massive pantry to discuss the final decision.

As the judges have their meeting in the pantry, Ramsay watches Belle, Leroy and Zelena being swept away for an interview by the production crew, while the other contestants in the balcony mingle among each other.

"There's no question as to who's going home," Killian comments as he slithers next to Ramsay and leans over the balcony railing.

Ramsay tightens the grip on his cane and slowly turns his head to Killian. "Do I ever talk to you?" he speaks hoarsely through his teeth.

"Well you don't have to be so quick to snap, Mate. You remind me of a crocodile. They're always quick to snap something's head off."

"Then maybe you should step away, before I snap off yours."

"Aye." Killian throws his hand in the air and slowly backs away. He doesn't need this conversation with a crocodile because he’ll be targeting to send him home next.

It doesn't take long before the judges come back with the name of the person leaving the competition and the Pressure Test competitors return from their interviews and take back their places standing behind the cakes they've made.

Now all of the attention is back on the judges.

"This was not a very tough decision." Regina folds her arms, glaring at the three contestants before her. "And the person leaving today knows exactly who they are. I need that person to step forward now."

The kitchen is at a standstill, as the contestants before the judges glance at each other and the person who has ran their last lap in the competition steps forward.

"Leroy, you were a great competitor, but sadly your time is up in the Masterchef kitchen," David announced. "Please take off your apron and place it on your cutting board."

Leroy lowers his head, takes off his apron and lurches back to the cooking station. He places it on top of the cutting board and regretful heads to the exit, without ever saying a word, making this the quickest exit in the history the the competition.

The final seven contestants applaud as he steps out of the doors of Masterchef kitchen.

 

##  *********

 

Outside of the competition, and away from the eye of the studio cameras, the contestants live in a huge open loft above the Masterchef kitchen. The loft has white walls with exposed wood beams across the ceiling.  There's a bar and lounge in front of the large sliding door that leads out onto a balcony, an open kitchen, a TV area and the bedrooms are just above the spiral steel steps, where the male and female contestants are segregated into two large rooms.

After Leroy's elimination the remaining seven contestants return to the loft for the night.  

"Zelena, I really didn't appreciate the way you kept bumping into me during the team challenge. It was rude and very distracting," Belle confronts Zelena at the bar.

"You take things too seriously." She pulls out a beer from the mini fridge under the counter. "I was just playing around." She pops off the bottle cap. "Just a little friendly banter."

"It didn't feel playful and we are not friends!" Belle leans over the counter, lowering her brow. "Don't ever touch me again," she snarls through her teeth and quickly circles away.

"Fucking bookworm," she mumbles and takes a swig from the bottle. "And the hell what are you looking at?" she snaps at Ramsay standing by the staircase.

Ramsay smirks, turning away from Zelena and limps up the stairs. He didn't enter the competition to get involved with the local drama.

##  **~*~**

The next morning, Belle wakes before the others and checks the chore schedule. She suggested (and everyone agreed) to make a schedule at the beginning of the competition to ensure everyone takes part in cooking for the group and keeping up the maintenance of the loft. Belle finds her name next to cooking and Ramsay Gold's name is in the same box. It's their job for today to cook for everyone and clean the kitchen after. Belle hangs the chore chart back on the refrigerator door, then heads upstairs and collects Ramsay for his assistance.

She enters the men's bedroom and there is a row of empty beds. The final two men of the competition are fast asleep in the beds furthest away from each other. Belle can't tell who is sleeping in which bed, so she leans over the first bed to figure out who is occupying it. The man in the bed has his face covered under the blanket, but she can see his short jet black hair peeking out of the top and she instantly knows it's not Ramsay, he has shoulder length, silvery hair. So she moves on to the next bed.

At the last bed against the wall in the corner of the room, Belle finds Ramsay facing the wall, curled up under his plush navy blue comforter, and she lightly taps him.

He shuffles in the bed, moaning softly and tightens his arms around the pillow he's gripping.

"Ramsay," she whispers.

He licks his lips, smacking them together.

She leans in closer to whisper in his ear. The last thing she wants to do is scare him awake. "Ramsay," she softly speaks again and suddenly she has an urge to sneeze. She tries to hold it back, but is unsuccessful. "Ah-Choo!" her powerful sneeze explodes in his ear.

His eyes pop open and he lifts his head, smacking it against Belle's forehead.

"Ow!" She rubs her head and collapses on top of him.

He turns onto his back and rubs his head, as she fights to get up but she falls on him again, burying her face in his neck. "What the hell?" He wipes her slobber off of his ears. "How disgusting." He takes hold of her shoulders and firmly, but gently, pulls her out of his neck.

"I'm so sorry." Still laying on top of him, she moves the hair from his face, making sure he isn't hurt.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." He wipes the side of his face again, then rubs his hand across her shoulder, removing it of her saliva onto the sleeve of her pajama shirt. He can't shake the feeling of her spit being all over him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. It only hurt for a moment."

"Oh, good... Now what the hell were you doing?"

"I was trying to wake you up, but I didn't want to scare you, so I tried to whisper in your ear and instead I sneezed in your ear, then you woke up and we clashed heads and I ended up scaring you anyways," she says swiftly without taking a single breath.

"And why were you waking me up?"

"Oh! It's our turn to cook for everyone and we have to make breakfast."

"I see."

"This is silly." She rolls her eyes shaking her head. "What was I even thinking. I could have started breakfast myself. I didn't have to wake you, that was rude of me. I'm so sorry Ramsay."

"No harm was done, I'm awake now. I couldn't possibly go back to sleep after the shower you just gave me."   

"I'm so sorry about that." She takes a corner of the blanket and frantically wipes the side of his face.  

Ramsay closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, trying to save himself from her cleaning attack. "Would you stop that!"

"Yes, yes of course." She drops the blanket and rest her hands on his chest.

"And could you could kindly remove yourself from me. There's no way we can go down to cook, if you're laying on top of me."

"Oh!" She quickly jumps off of him and stands by his bed, flipping her chestnut hair back from her shoulder. "I just made this whole thing awkward, didn't I?"

"Yes you did." He sits up from the bed and pulls the blanket off of himself.

She stands and stares at Ramsay with a nervous grin on her face, while her hands are in the pockets of her honey bee pajama pants, anxiously tapping her right foot.

He looks back at her with a meager twitch in his eye. This girl is odd. "Would you mind doing something else for me, Dearie?" He folds his hands in his lap.

"Yes yes anything."

"Get out."

"Oh... Yes..." She fidgets around in her place, doing a half turn and faces him again. For some reason she's unable to leave immediately. "You need to... Umm... Yes." She removes her hands from her pockets. "Yes... Yes... I'll go." She finally finds her sense of direction and heads to the door. "I'll see you down stairs."

Ramsay sighs and takes hold of his cane leaning on the wall, then stands to his feet. He's going to wash his face vigorously to clear it of Belle's unexpected spit shower.

Down in the kitchen, Belle removes the ingredients she needs to make lemon blueberry and honey pancakes. She has waited for the number of contestants to drop, before making this recipe with the honey she brought with her from her own bee colony.

Five minutes after being awoken in the most awkward way, Ramsay makes his way into the kitchen, still wearing his black silk pajamas. "So what is it that you have planned for breakfast, Miss French?" He steps up to the purple granite counter and stands next to Belle as she dumps the blueberries into the pancake mix. "I'm up for anything, just tell me what to do."

"It really was silly of me to wake you up. I really can cook for seven on my own."

"Well, I'm here now and I'm not going back upstairs. Tell me what you'd like to me do and I'll help."

"Alright." She hands him the package of fresh blueberries. "You know how to make a pancake batter, right?"

"Yes, I used make them for my son all the time." He drops the remainder of the berries into the stand mixer.

"That's nice to hear." She removes the cast iron griddle from the cabinet by the stove and rest it on the burners to heat up.

"What is?"

"To hear you talk about your son. You almost never talk about yourself."

Ramsay turns on the mixer to gently fold in the plump blueberries. "I don't know why I said that. I didn't even mean too." He doesn't want any of his fellow contestants to get a sense of knowing the real him. He only wants them to know the man in the Masterchef kitchen.

"I can keep that between us if you like. I understand how some people want to keep their private life and the competition separate."

"Thanks, but that really wasn't such a big deal." She isn't quite as odd as he thought fifteen minutes ago.

"Your welcome, but I still won't speak of it." Belle leans over his shoulder and checks the progress of the batter. "That looks great." She reaches over him and turns off the mixer, then picks up the jar of honey sitting by the bowl.

Ramsay turns his head to her and is taken aback by her closeness. This girl doesn't seem to have any sense of personal space. He clears his throat to draw attention to her close proximity.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She takes a step to the side. "I don't know what's with me today." 

"That's alright. Let's just finish this breakfast."

"Now that's a wonderful idea." She smiles brightly and drops a few tablespoons of honey into the pancake batter.

They work together to finish breakfast and try to avoid any more bizarre situations.

The other five contestants awake to the aroma of fresh blueberry pancakes and they all sit down for breakfast together, all except for Ramsay. He takes his plate out to the balcony and enjoys his pancakes alone under a cloudless sky, gazing upon the Storybrooke City skyline.

Belle stands from the long wood table and takes her plate out to the balcony.

Ramsay glares at her, then looks back upon the skyline. "What do you want?" he mumbles.

"I came out to join you." She sits in the chair next to him.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted too." She takes a bite of her fluffy pancakes. "We cooked together. It's a shame not to eat together."

"Oh." He sits back in the chair and crosses his right leg over the left. "You can stay, but don't talk to me."

"I was already going to stay and if I wanted to talk to someone, I would have stayed in there."

"Fair enough."

They sit quietly together, eating their pancake breakfast, watching the birds fly through the skyscrapers and listen the busy city below them.

##  **~*~**

Later that afternoon, after everyone has done their daily chores and cleaned themselves up for the day, all of the contestants are called down to the Masterchef kitchen. Each week they attend cooking lesson put on by one of the judges and this weeks lesson is taught by Chef Graham. He shows them the proper techniques to making a classic cheese soufflé. Graham demonstrates to them how to beat the egg whites properly so that they're not too stiff and how to combine the flour and cheese mixer with the egg white so that it all stays nice and airy. He also shows how to line the inside of the soufflé dish so that it doesn't stick.

After Graham cooks his demonstration soufflé and removes it from the oven, he allows everyone to taste it, then he instructs them make to same recipe on their own. He continues to be a teacher and give them pointers in areas of the techniques he notices a few of them struggling with.

Two hours after the start of the the chef's demo, the entire cooking lesson ends positively and everyone leaves the class having learned something new.

 

##  *********

The next day, back in the Masterchef kitchen, the seven top competitors enter the cooking arena and are astounded to find the judges standing before an enormous wooden box on the stage. The box stands seven feet tall and ten feet across with the Masterchef logo painted on the front. It looks like a giant version of the boxes they use for every Mystery Box Challenge, which those smaller boxes happen to be sitting on top of the cutting boards of each cooking station.

As each contestant take their places at the cooking stations, Belle and Ramsay find themselves working at the stations next to each other.

The judges wait for the camera crew to get a shot of all the competitors standing in front of their mystery boxes. When the close up filming is complete, David Nolan starts the announcements. "As you all can see, by the gigantic mystery box sitting behind us, that today's challenge will be bit different."

"I can see some very concerned faces on some of you," Graham adds. "Elsa, what do you think is under this box?"

"Umm..." She giggles under her breath. "It could be some exotic meat or a whole cow that we'll have to butcher... I don't know." She smiles, shrugging her shoulders.

"A whole cow to butcher," Regina chuckles and turns to the other judges. "We might have to make them do that one day."

David and Graham laughs and nod in agreement.

"As good of a guess as that was, you are wrong," Regina states. "But there is an ingredient, a very special ingredient, that is close to each of your hearts."  

The contestants stand pondering on what could possibly be under this large box that would be important to all of them.

The judges step down from the stage and the box slowly begins to rise.

Each contestant watches the massive wood box as the first thing to be revealed from underneath is a row of a dozen feet in shoes. It continues to rise revealing pairs of legs (some in pants and others in skirts) and the contestants starts to get a feeling of knowing exactly what's being revealed before them. When the box is fully lifted, the faces of six ecstatic people beam back at the contestants. Everyone explodes with in a cheerful applause, everyone except for Ramsay Gold.

Ramsay looks at the faces of the people from the box, then at his fellow competitors. Everyone seems to be in a giddy mood and he doesn't understand why. He mentally counts the number of people in the box and realizes their numbers don't match the number of contestants. Something isn't adding up.

"I'm sure you all recognizes one of these faces," David says and everyone replies with a roaring yes. "There was an ingredient under that box. One of the most important ingredients; family."

Ramsay's stomach cramps in an agonizing knot as he realizes these people are here for a family visit with a person in the competition and no one is here to see him. Tears begin to burn in Ramsay's eyes and his lips quiver as the need for his son grows even greater.

Though her father stands before her, Belle looks at Ramsay. For some reason unknown to her, he has drawn her attention once again. She can see the tears that he desperately holds back and hear his light snuffling. The expression on his face is different than all the rest and she doesn't think he's crying tears of joy. 

Ramsay stands tall and grips his cane, trying to keep a stone cold face, even though he feels like he's been punched in the heart.


	3. Episode Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumbelle Masterchef AU - Ramsay Gold has a hard time adjusting to not having his son visit him on family day, as the Mystery Box Challenge begins.

Ramsay Gold's eyes are fixed on the unfamiliar faces standing on the stage of the Masterchef kitchen and drifts into a daydream where he sees his son standing among them.

_Just after the giant wooden box is raised, Neal Cassidy Gold, stands in the back row of the other family members, beaming brightly at his father with a toothy grin and scratches his stubbled face just before waving at Ramsay. No longer being able to wait for the announcement to meet up with their respective family in the competition, Neal breaks free from the cramped stage and rushes to his father, arms wide-open to embrace him warmly._

_Ramsay drops his cane and limps to his son and they share a loving hug in the middle of the kitchen. A hug that they've wanted years to share together._

_"I'm so sorry, son," Ramsay cries tears of regret and joy into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."_

_"It's okay, Papa. We have time now to make it all up."_

"Ramsay..." A faint voice is heard in the distance. "Ramsay..."

He snaps out of his daydream and crashes back into the harsh world of reality. A world where he didn't get that loving reunion with his son.

"Are you alright?"

Ramsay's vision clears and his senses return, feeling a hand on his right shoulder. He slowly turns his head to find Chef Regina gazing back at him with concern on her face.

"You've been standing here while the other are meeting with their families. I needed to make sure you're alright. I know no one came for you." She lightly squeezes his shoulder, letting him know that she's here for him.

"Yes," he sighs out, heart thumping out of his chest. If there was ever a moment he thought he was going to die, this would be it.

"I know this is a tough situation and you can overcome it," she speaks with sincerity in her voice. "You're one of the top competitors with a very good chance of winning this whole thing."

Ramsay looks to her and nods, desperately holding in the tears burning in his eyes.

"If you just keep that in mind you'll get through the day," she assures him and keeps him company. The last thing she wants is for him to feel alone while everyone else has time with loved ones.

But loneliness is already embedded deep into Ramsay's heart.

**~*~**

Belle French turns her head away from her father, as he speaks about home and watching her every week on television. She hears his every word and loves the sound of his voice, but her heart can't help but ache from the hurt Ramsey must be feeling in this very instant. She watches him engage in conversation with Chef Regina, but he doesn't say much and looks as if he wants to burn the entire building down.

"Belle?"

She turns her head back to her father. "Yes, Father," she swiftly speaks. "I think it would be a great idea to sell the yellow roses with the rose honey I farmed last year."

"Honey Bee, I stopped talking about the flower shop moments ago," Moe French says to his daughter.

"Oh."

"You're here with me, but your head is somewhere else."

"I'm sorry, I just feel bad for Ramsay. No one came to visit  him and he has a son." She glances at Ramsay, then back at her father. "But I guess they're estranged."

"That's a terrible feeling for a father. I've felt that way when we've had our falling out."

"I know, but that was years ago and we've been good ever since."

"Yes we have." He takes her hand. "Let's not talk about the past."

"Okay." She squeezes his hand.

"You're always looking out for others. Even if they don't know you are."

"Well, I try."

He kisses the crown of her head. Proud of how good of a person she truly is. "How about you show me around this massive kitchen." He changes the subject. 

"Alright, Father." Belle gives him a quick tour and they pass by the other families visiting together.

Killain Jones is meeting with his older brother. He's the reason he started cooking and entered in this competition.

Emma talks to her son about school and he can't keep his arms from draping around her.

Zelena drags her father around the studio, showing him all the magic of filming television.

Ruby bickers with her grandmother about the competition. She's been watching the show every week, witnessing Ruby lacing everything she makes with hot spices. Now she has a chance to tell her to stop doing it. She isn't going to win if she burns off the judges taste buds.

Elsa visits with her sister who flew in from her busy schedule of arranging her wedding. Elsa is hoping to give her sister a once in a lifetime wedding gift; a win in the Masterchef kitchen.

"This place is a lot bigger than it is on T.V." Moe French speaks with his daughter, as they stop in front of one of the many cooking stations. "I can't image getting used to all of these cameras. I don't think I can work with them in my face."

"It's easy to ignore them. The crew is usually pretty good at staying out of the way."

"You said  _usually_."

"Well," she chuckles under her breath. "Not everyone is perfect."

"I know that," he says with a smile.

Alongside David Nolan, Chef Graham step onto the small stage located in front of all the cooking stations. "I'd hate to break up such a wonderful thing as this," Graham announces. "But it's time to say your goodbyes."

The contestants and their family members sigh to the announcement. Everyone is disappointed to be having to make such an early departure, everyone, but Ramsay Gold.

He's been devastatingly heartbroken the entire family visit and has a feeling of relief to finally see everything moving along. This has been the longest half hour of his life.

##  **~*~**

After each contestant is taken in for an interview to recap their emotions about the surprise family visit, cast and crew are all ready to move on with today's Mystery Box Challenge.

"Resting on your stations is your mystery box," Regina addresses the contestants. "And underneath that box is what each of you will have to make for today's challenge."

"As you all know, the winner of the Mystery Box will have a huge advantage going into today's Elimination Challenge," David continues the announcement. "They will have their finger on the pulse of the game and one,  _or more_ , of you could be going home."

"Ready to see what's under those boxes?" Chef Graham adds.

"Yes, chef," the home cooks answer.

"Please," Regina stands with her hands behind her back. "Lift your box."

All of the contestants raise the wooden boxes from their cutting boards and find a finished baked produced underneath.

Ramsay rolls his eyes and his shoulders slump as he huffs to the sight of the little white ramekin resting on the cutting board. This is not the kind of challenge he was hoping for.

"Are you alright, Ramsay," Belle whispers in his direction.

"Yes," he tries not to snap at her. She's only being thoughtful. "I'm fine."

"Alright, I was just..."

"What you have in front of you," Regina says before Belle could finish the sentence on her tongue. "Is something you're all familiar with; the classic soufflé. A simple dish with difficult techniques," she pauses, taking a breath. "You can make them sweet or savory. The choice is up to you, but they have to be fine dining quality and they have to be done in one hour."

"You'll each have one minute to do your shopping in the pantry." Graham looks directly at Ramsay. "As always, you will have 15 seconds more and do your shopping first."

Ramsay nods.

Because of his mobile disability, Ramsay must do all of his pantry shopping first or after everyone else. Since he can not move like an able bodied person, he is allowed an extra 15 seconds and a clear pantry to lower the risk of being trampled, but he can not start cooking until the others have finished their time in the pantry. This all keeps the game on even playing grounds.

"Ramsay, your time in the pantry starts." Graham looks up at the clock and the second hand ticks to the twelve. "Now."

Ramsay Gold hobbles on his cane to the massive Masterchef pantry and makes it inside with 10 seconds elapsed. He grabs a shopping basket, hooking it on his arm along with his cane, and limps around to gather his ingredients. He gets the essential first, milk, eggs, butter, flour and then go for the other items to make his zucchini and corn pan soufflé. After getting everything he thinks he'll need, Ramsay gimps out of the pantry with his basket of ingredients in one hand and cane in the other. All with a few seconds still on the clock. As soon as he rests his basket at the cooking station, everyone else's shopping time begins and Ramsay watches as his fellow contestants scatter like vultures to a fresh corps.

The pristine pantry is turned upside down as the six competitors wrestle their way through it. Quickly nabbing up everything they can to make the perfect soufflé.

Seconds tick by as Belle fills her basket. She's hopping that her chocolate soufflé with a cayenne chocolate sauce will automatically push her into the next challenge. She wanted to make a rice pudding soufflé with a raspberry sauce, but an hour is not enough time to make her most elaborate soufflé recipe. She might have to hold it as a secret weapon when she's one of the final two in the finale.

The contestants begin flowing from the pantry, retaking their places back at the cooking stations.

When the pantry is clear, Regina glances up at the clock. "Your cook time starts... Now."

Everyone removes their groceries from the shopping baskets and begin on making one of the most important soufflés they’ve ever baked.

Ramsay stares at his ingredients for a moment. The heartache of not having his son to visit him is still weighing heavy.

_Neal sits on top of one of the counters in the Masterchef kitchen and his father joins him, serving the zucchini and corn soufflé. "Do you need help getting on the counter, Papa?"_

_"No no, son. I've got it." He hops up on the counter, next to his beloved son and tops the soufflé with a fresh tomato relish and a light sprinkling of parmesan cheese._

_"It's such a beautiful dish."_

_"You really think so, son?"_

_"Yes." Neal nods. "I've missed your cooking so much."_

Belle looks over at Ramsay, as she cuts through her enormous block of rich bittersweet chocolate, and sees him stuck in a vacant stare. “Hey,” she tries to gain his attention, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. “Hey!” she yelps.

“What!” he snaps out of another daydream, tuning his head to her.

She isn’t taken aback by his sharp reply. Everyone had a confidence boost from their family visit and he did not. She knows there must be a million things running through his mind. “The cooking has started,” she reminds him, trying to bring him back into the competition. “Almost two minutes is gone.”

He glances up at the clock and grumbles to himself. He can’t believe he got lost in deep thought again. He quickly takes the zucchini out of the basket and starts to peel it. “Thank you, Dearie,” he says in Belle’s direction.

“Your welcome.”

The three Masterchef judges make their rounds about the kitchen. Tasting elements from each home cook, getting a feeling on where everyone is taking this classic French dish. Chef Graham and Regina stop at Zelena's station and they can smell something delicious in the works.

"What have you chosen to do with your soufflé?" Graham asks, giving a scrutinizing eye over her cooking station.

"I've decided on a lemon soufflé with a fresh blueberry sauce." She turns the mixer on and whips her egg whites into soft peaks.

"That's sounds very refreshing," Regina comments.

"Thank you, chef. I hope you like it."

"I hope I like too," Regina quickly adds, then she and Graham turn away.

David makes his stop at Ramsay's station and things appear to be in shambles.

Ramsay lost precious time while he was dreaming of a perfect world and he is now playing catch up. He vigorously whips the egg whites, desperate to get the soufflé in the oven now.

"Calm down Mr. Gold," David speaks serenely. "You have more than enough time."

Ramsay cuts his eyes up at him and reminds silent. Even if he had words on his tongue, he wouldn't speak them.

"What kind of soufflé are you making?"

Ramsay cuts his eyes at him again, then turns away from David to head into the supply closet and collect the dish he'll bake the soufflé in.

David heads back to the stage to meet up with his fellow judges. "I'm very concerned about Ramsay," he speaks softly among them, "He's never been like this."

"I know what you mean." Regina looks up at Ramsay, struggling to remove his bowl from the mixer. "The family visit seems to be really messing with his head. It's sad to watch."  

Ramsay continues to hobble around the kitchen, dropping utensils and food on the floor, fighting with the kitchen equipment. This man is a wreck as he literally tosses the dish into the oven with thirty minutes to cook and this soufflé normally bakes in forty. He then slices through cherry tomatoes to begin the tomato relish. 

As he blazes his knife with the speed of cheetah, who has drank too much coffee, Ramsay nips his finger on the sharp blade.

"Oh, God. He cut himself," Regina cringes. She had the feeling in her gut this would happen.

"Medic," Ramsay calls out, quickly moving away from the food, wrapping his bloody finger in a towel. Having never felt more disappointed with himself in this entire competition. Why did they have to have the family visits today?

Belle can see the panic in Ramsay's face and the tremble in his hands as the medic patches him up. She feels horrible for him and wishes she could do something to help calm his nerves, but she can't let his misfortune stop her from making her best soufflé. She tempers the chocolate for her cayenne sauce and looks down in the oven. The dessert is rising perfectly.

With his finger properly wrapped and his work station is free of blood, Ramsay returns to cooking.

"Are you alright?" Belle asks. Everything with her dish is going smoothly, but she can't shake this compassion she feels towards him. This entire cooking performance is unlike him.  

"Yes, Dearie, I'm fine." He tosses the tomato with olive oil, garlic and several other ingredients, then pauses and looks over at Belle. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"You're having a bad day. Some people need looking out for on a bad day."

He thinks her words are kind and they are something he needed to hear, but he can't have her sabotage herself while worrying about him. "Don't think about me, you should only think about yourself."

"I can't help it."

"Please, Belle, don't talk to me." He turns away to gather his plating dishes.

The clock ticks closer to the end of the hour and the cooks scramble to finish their dish.

"One minute left," Chef Graham calls out.

All the cooks put the finishing touches on their soufflés and Ramsay waits for the final seconds to remove his from the oven.

"Thirty seconds left," Graham counts down.

Ramsay removes his soufflé and it's still raw in the middle. It needs ten more minutes, ten minutes he doesn't have. He slaps the tomato relish onto this disaster, sprinkle it with parmesan cheese and stands back with his hands in the air. The worst dish of his life is complete.

Mystery Box Challenge: bombed and shot to fucking hell.

"Time is up."

##  **~*~**

Moments after the camera crew films close ups of each dish and the judges take one last look over the soufflés, judgment of the Mystery Box Challenge begins.

"Before we call up the three top dishes, I need to have words with one of you." Regina eyes Ramsay and he looks directly back at her. "Is that your best? She points at his eggy, collapsed, soufflé. “Is that you on a plate?"

Ramsay takes a deep breath, preparing himself to take whatever she's about to spit at him. He knows what she's going to say is the honest truth.

"Is that you on a plate?" she asks again.

"No, chef," he finally answers.

“I knew that wasn't you.”

He nods, can’t bring himself to speak. He thinks about Neal watching the show, probably embarrassed that his father made a fool out of himself. Or laughing.

"I want you to throw that disaster away. Overcome what made you put on such a grim performance in the kitchen and bounce back."

Ramsay hesitates for a moment, looks over to Belle and she's nodding in agreement, unsure of why he needed to see her reaction, but her approval feels right. He picks up his plate and tosses it in the trash.

"You still have a chance of winning," the chef adds. "But the next time you perform like that in my kitchen, it will be your ticket home."

"Yes, chef."

"That was not you," she says sternly. “You're better than that.”

The studio kitchen falls silent for a moment then Chef Graham starts the judgment. “As you all know, we’ve tasted parts of each dish as you were cooking and there are three dishes that we think are on a higher level than the rest.” He pauses for a moment, overlooking the contestants. “The first souffle we’d like to take a closer look at is from someone who has never been one of the top three in a Mystery Box Challenge… Zelena, bring up your dish.”

Zelena is elated as she takes her souffle up to the judges. She turns back and gives all the contestants a little smirk before resting the ramekin on the table in front of the judge.

“This looks gorgeous.”

“Thank you, chef,” she says with the widest smile and a glint in her eye.

“What do you have?” Graham picks up a spoon and dips it into the warm fluffy soufflé.

“It's a light, airy and refreshing lemon soufflé with a bright blueberry sauce.”

He places the spoon into his mouth and his taste buds are hit with an exposition of zesty lemon and sweet blueberries. "This is like eating a cloud. It's all the words you used to describe it. Light, airy, refreshing, bright." He licks his lips and the back of the spoon. "You weren't just pulling my chain."

"No I wasn't." She can't stop smiling. Zelena has sat back for weeks watching other cooks stand where she is now and have their dishes praised. Now it's her turn, she's in the spotlight and she's going to show her biggest competition, Belle, that's she's here to win. She's not flying bye in the middle anymore, she's at the fucking top.

Regina and David step up to taste Zelena's soufflé and they are just as satisfied with it as Graham.

Zelena basks in their good words for a few more moments then bounces back a few paces so the judging can continue.

"The next soufflé we'd like to see is from someone who went the savory route." David says. "Killain, please bring down your dish."

"Aye." Killain swoops up his dish with his right hand and forearm, gloatingly carrying it up to the judge. He eyes Ramsay as he walks pass, hoping to win this challenge and gain control of the elimination round. Whatever advantage is waiting for the winner of the Mystery Box, Killian is going to use it to put the final nail in the Crocodile's coffin and send it floating up the swamp. He knows there's no way Ramsay can comeback from that catastrophic performance.

"Beautiful hight on that soufflé," David comments.

"Thank you, sir." Killian nods, then looks back at Ramsay, giving him a wink.

If Ramsay could rush up to that stage right now, he'd shove that soufflé up Killian's ass.

"Tell me what you've made." David turns the ramekin, taking a look at the dish from all sides.

"What I have is a shrimp and crab soufflé with red bell pepper and fresh tarragon."

"It smells delicious." He digs the spoon into the perfectly risen soufflé, feeling his spoon cutting through the fresh seafood.

"I also lined the bottom with parmesan cheese," Killian adds.

David nods and takes the spoon between his lips, tasting each element that was just described. "Amazing."

"Thank you."

"There's a nice texture here and the flavors work well together. I will say the shrimp is a tad over, but you have so many nice things going on, that I could overlook it." He drops his used spoon in a tray under the table. "Great job. I think this is your best dishes yet." David turns away and allows the other judges to taste Killian's soufflé.

After all the judges try the dish, Killian steps back and stands next to Zelena. Floating on cloud nine.

"Last but certainly not least," Regina announces. "Is another dessert soufflé that we absolutely must taste. This person has been in the top three of the Mystery Box, but has never won... Belle, please, bring up your dish."

Belle's heart drops to the floor, then bounces back into her chest. She was starting to think she wasn't going to hear her name.

Ramsay thinks it’s nice to see that she's made it into the top three, but he doesn't show emotion on his face. He didn't want to be the reason why she didn't make it.

Belle takes her dish up to the judges table, as she smiles ear to ear. Though she's been top three before, she's still over the moon about it. She thinks this time is her chance to win.

"And what did you bake?" Regina asks.

"It's a chocolate soufflé with a cayenne chocolate sauce."

Regina dives her spoon into the rich, yet light, soufflé. "Which chocolates did you use?"

"Dark and bittersweet in the soufflé. The sauce has milk chocolate."

Chef Regina tastes the soufflé and her face remains emotionless. "Have you ever made this sauce before?"

Belle is a little nervous now, unable to read the chef's face. Now she's thinking something is off with the sauce. Maybe she mistook salt for sugar. "No." She gulps down. "I've never made it before."

"Well... That sauce... Is absolutely delicious."

Belle breathes a sigh of relief.

"It's a great complement with the soufflé. I can feel the heat of the cayenne tickling the back of my throat, which is lovely, and it cuts through the richness. Everything is balanced and cooked correctly. It's perfection."

"Thank you so much." She does a little hop in her place, beaming brightly at the judge.

David and Graham taste the chocolate soufflé and they too are overwhelmed with a punch of flavor.

After each judge give their critique, Belle takes her place with Killian and Zelena. 

"Now we must confer among ourselves as to who made the best soufflé," David says, then he and the other judges exit the stage to discuss the challenge.

All the contestants band together and mingle among themselves to congratulate the top three dishes, everyone does, but Ramsay Gold.

He stands at his workstation, glaring into the trash can at his soufflé. The eggy, cheesy, mess, spattered all over the bottom of the bin, is now a replica of his life. 

"The best thing you've ever done was throwing that thing away." Killian couldn't help himself but to rub his success into Ramsay's face.

"Well, then the second best thing would be for me to make you join it," Ramsay snarls through his teeth.

"I'd really like to see you try throwing me into that bin, mate."

Killain and Ramsay have been at each other's throats since the beginning of the competition. No one really knows why, but they don't see eye to eye. Chef Graham has even commented how he has never seen two people clash so quickly in the three years he has done this competition. Killain and Ramsay are like oil and water.

Belle notices the tension brewing between Ramsay and Killian, so she thinks it's best to defuse the situation. They look as if they're going to kill each other. "What's going on over here?" Just her presence alone splits the men apart.

Killain turns away and meets back up to talk with the other competitors.

Ramsay turns away from everyone.

Belle walks to the other side of his workstation and leans against the counter where he has his back turned. "I thought your soufflé was a wonderful idea and it looked gorgeous when you pulled it out of the oven."

Ramsay turns his head and looks at her from the corner of his eye. Why haven't she left him alone? "Belle?"

"Yes." She moves a stand mixer and sits on top of the counter.

"I've asked you not to talk to me a few times." He turns to face her.

"Yes." She nods.

"Why do you keep talking to me?"

"I don't know." She shrugs.

He steps closer to her. "Why aren't you intimidated by me like the rest of them?" He growls.

"I don't know." She shrugs again. "I guess it's 'cause I know that's not you."

The hard expression on Ramsay’s face softens and he gazes back at her perplexed. "How do you know it's not me?"

She hops down from the counter. "Because I saw a glimpse of the real you today,” she says and leaves him to himself.

Ramsay's curls his lip and his internal temperature rises, just a notch. She doesn't know a thing about him.

The judge finally return with a winner to the Mystery Box Challenge and all the contestants retake their places.

"This was a very close decision," Chef Graham addresses the top three. "But we were able to all agree on a clear winner. And that winner is," he takes a deep breath. "Belle."

Belle covers her huge smile with her left hand and turns to Zelena and Killian. "You both did a great job," she congratulates them in good sportsmanship.

But Zelena rolls her eyes, turning green with envy, and paces back to her station. She now has an elimination challenge to get through and she doesn't need to hear fake praises from a bookworm. "I had that challenge won," she mumbles to herself.

Killain isn't that much of a sore loser and he shakes the lady's hand, before returning to his cook-station.

"Ready to see what goodies we have in store for you in the pantry?" Regina asks.

"Yes," Belle gleefully replies. She has hoped to have a moment when she's in control of the game and now it's finally here.


	4. Episode Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After winning the Mystery Box Challenge, Belle learns of her advantages in the Masterchef pantry and uses one of them to “handicap” one of her opponents for the Elimination Challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the two dorks little love story. ❤ ❤ ❤ I hope ripperblackstaff and everyone else like this chapter. Happy reading!

In the back of the Masterchef pantry (Now clean from the contestants earlier ransacking.) the three judges stand behind a counter with two silver domes resting on the counter-top before them. Belle awaits anxiously to see what's underneath the domes. This is the first time she’s ever had the chance to take control over the game.

“Welcome to the Masterchef pantry,” David Nolan greets her.

“Thank you, sir,” she nods with a luminescent smile stretched upon her face.

“Here, is where the game can change for anyone and you will be the person that changes it,” David adds.

“For your first advantage, you do not have to cook in the Elimination Challenge,” Chef Graham announces. “Which automatically skyrockets you into the top six.”

Belle stands feeling euphoric in this moment, unsure of what to do with her excited hands, so she slips them into the pockets of her skirt.

“In today's Elimination Challenge, everyone will cook with the same ingredient,” Regina states. “Except for one of them.”

“That's right,” Graham adds with a nod. “You get to single out one of your opponents and make them cook with an entirely different ingredient. Which could either make them or break them.”

“There are restrictions to the choices under these domes.” Regina continues the announcement. “One of these choices has a shorter cooking time than the other. So whoever you single out will have more or less cooking time than the rest…. Are you ready to see your choices?”  

“Yes, chef!” Belle replies and Regina lifts the first silver dome.

 

**\-------**

 

Outside of the Masterchef pantry the remaining six contestants await for the challenge to begin.

Ramsay Gold is still feeling the pressure from the Mystery Box Challenge. By allowing the absences of his son to get to his head, he has shown a weakness in the competition and now the others players are aiming to take him out.

“Bloody hell,” Killian Jones huffs as he stands at his cook station, staring daggers into the back of Ramsay's head. “Look at that crocodile,” he comments to Emma Swan, who is working at the station next to him. “He think he still has a chance.”

“We all still have a chance,” she replies.

“If Belle is as smart as I'm hoping she is, she would use whatever advantage she's getting to take him out.” Killian crosses his arms, shifting his weight to the left. “He’s already wounded, now he just needs the kill shot.”

Emma shrugs and doesn't reply. She thinks there's a fine line between competitive and obsessive. And Killian's feud with Ramsay seems to be bordering on obsessive. “It's not like you can really do anything about it now.”

“We’ll see, love.”

Belle and the judges suddenly emerge from the pantry. Now the wait to start the Elimination Challenge is finally over.

“Take your place at the balcony, Belle,” David says as he steps onto the stage before the other competitors. “As you all can see, Belle’s first advantage is that she doesn't have to cook in this challenge.”

Belle looks over her competition from the safety of the balcony. She has their fate in her hands.

“As for Belle’s second advantage,” David continues. “She received the chance to choose what everyone will be cooking and not only that.” He takes a breath. “She has also received the chance to single someone out.”

The home cooks stand mystified, unsure of what that means.

“While everyone is working with the same ingredient,” Chef Graham explains. “One of you will have a different ingredient.” He ganders up at the balcony. “Belle, who did you decide to single out?”

“The person I chose has shown that they are a tough competitor and a beast in the kitchen, but they have proven today that they are human.”

Killian stops himself from leaping for joy. Belle has done exactly what he’d hoped.

“I chose to single out Ramsay.”

“Ugh,” Ramsay grunts under his breath. It's always the nice ones that stab you in the back.

“Ramsay, how do you feel about being called out like that?” Regina asks.

“I don't know what the little librarian has planned for me, but whatever it is, I'm going to overcome it,” he answers with confidence. He isn't going to put on two grim performances in one day. No matter who’s trying to kick him down.

“Waiting in the pantry are two silver domes and one of them is assigned especially for you, Ramsay.” Regina stands with her hands behind her back. “You will enter the pantry alone, see what Belle has chosen for you and you will have two minutes to shop for your dish.”

Ramsay nods to agree and cuts his eyes up at Belle, unsure of why the hell she's smiling at him. She’s the person responsible for digging his grave.

“Are you really to being?”, Chef Regina asks.

“Yes, chef,” he answers.

“There's just one more thing,” Graham adds. “Everyone will have one hour to cook their dish, except for you Ramsay.” He hammers another nail into Ramsay’s coffin. “You will have thirty minutes. So if I were you, I’d keep that time in mind while shopping for groceries.”

_“Oh, fucking hell!”_  Ramsay roars in his mind. Can this day get any worse? “Yes, chef,” he replies after shaking imagines of himself shoving sand down Killian’s throat. He isn't sure why he imagined sand, it just seemed right. Actually, he isn't sure why he imagined that at all, but he isn't disappointed about the fantasy.

“Your two minute shopping time starts once you lift that dome,” Chef Graham says and looks up at the clock. “You may enter the pantry… Now.”

Ramsay hobbles on his cane making it to the pantry as quickly as he physically can and finds the two silver domes on the counter. One of the domes has a picture of his face on the front and he looks just as crossed in that picture as he feels on the inside. Ramsay ponders to himself, as he steps closer to the table. _“Never judge a person by the way they look.”_  He thinks about Belle and how he never saw her doing such a devilish thing to him.

Belle is the kind librarian type, eager to help someone find a new book, ready to share the fresh honey she farmed from her colony of bees with anyone. She may be a little odd and a bit clumsy, but Ramsay's learning the hard way that she'll push someone off a cliff once given the fucking chance.

He places his hand on the dome and takes a deep breath. Whatever is under here, he’s going to turn it into the best dish he's ever made.

Ramsay lifts the dome and his shopping time automatically begins. His eyes fall on the most gorgeous rib-eye steak he's seen in ages. He doesn't have a clue what the others are cooking with, but it doesn't seem like Belle has stab him in the back.

She quite possibly helped the carnivorous Scottish bastard.

He nabs up one of the baskets by the counter, grab his beautiful bone in steak and shops for the ingredients that will help him win this challenge.

Ramsay exits the pantry, appearing more confident than before entering, and nods to Belle as he places the basket of ingredients at his cook station.

Belle give him a nod in return, pleased with the choices she's made.

Once the second hand on the clock strikes twelve, David releases the rest of the home cooks to gather their ingredients for the challenge.

Inside the pantry the silver domes have been replaced with an array of fresh wild mushrooms. King oysters, shiitake and chanterelles, just to name a few. So many different mushrooms could be a cook’s dream or a cook’s nightmare.

The contestant gather what they need along with any mushrooms they choose to work with and depart from the pantry before time runs out.

Once everyone is settled at their places, Chef Graham reminds them of an important requirement in the challenge. “We want the ingredient Belle has chosen for you to be the star of your dish.” He peers up at the clock. “The one hour cooking time begins… Now.”

 

**\-------**

 

The Elimination Challenge is underway as each home cook prepares their ingredients to make wild mushrooms stand out on their own.

Well, everyone else is cooking, except for Ramsay Gold.

He stands staring at his basket, mapping out his plan of attack for when he's finally allowed to cook. He’s going to use every precious minute that he has to make one of the best steak dishes of his life.

As the time dwindles down, Ramsay finds himself glancing up at Belle in the balcony, admiring the expressions on her face as she watches the competition unfold. He doesn't know what he'd do had she given him those dirty mushrooms. 

Ramsay loves mushroom, don't get the wrong idea. He could sautée them with shallots, garlic, butter and deglaze the pan with a little red or white wine, then serve them up with the grilled flesh of any animal. But turning those fungus's into a main course is a completely different matter. Mushrooms are a side player, not the star of the show.

He truly lucked out in this challenge when Belle handed him the steak and now he's wondering why she did.

Belle turns her head, looking in Ramsay's direction, and their eyes meet with each other.

Ramsay quickly turns away. She can't truly know that he appreciates what she's done, not yet anyways, and it's a good thing the nod they shared earlier wasn't much. He needs to put all of his focus on winning this thing.

While Ramsay avoids eye contact with the person that quite possibly saved his neck in this competition, the three Masterchef judges make a stop at each station to get a closer look at what being prepared.

“Elsa, why don't you tell us what you're working on?” Regina asks, taking two tasting spoons from the stainless steel utensils container, and hands one to Graham.

“Well, I want to step out of my comfort zone.”

“Not sticking to your Scandinavian background today?” Graham questions.

“No, chef, not today.” She unwraps handmade dough from plastic film and rest it on the cutting board. “I want to show that I'm not just a one trick pony and that I can do other cuisines. So, I'm making a wild mushroom ravioli with a white wine butter sauce.”

“Sounds delicious.” Regina dips her spoon in the mushroom filling and tastes. “Do you think you can pull it off?”

“Yes, chef, I do.” Elsa changes the setting on the pasta maker and feeds the dough through to roll it out.

“Make sure to get that pasta thin enough,” Graham makes one last comment before he and Regina move along.

David steps up to Ruby Lucas’ station and his nose his hit with the tantalizing aroma of exotic spices. “Wow.” The scent reminds him of a trip to India he took with his wife. “Your station is on fire, Miss Lucas,” he says with a smirk.

“Thank you. That's just the way I like it.” She winks, stirring the base of the marsala sauce for her spicy mushroom curry.

“You can just smell all the different spices you're working with. It's beautiful.”

“I hope you like the taste as well as the aroma.”

“I'm sure I will.” He leaves her station licking his lips, anticipating on tasting the finished dish.

On her way back to meet up with the other judges on the stage, Regina makes a stop at Ramsay's station. He has just a few moments before he can finally get cooking. “Have you been thinking of a battle plan during your time out?”

“Yes. I know exactly what I'm doing.”

“That's good to hear. I don't want to see a repeat of the Mystery Box.”

“That won't be happening again.” He leans his cane against the counter, freeing his hands to cook.

Regina looks at the watch on her left wrist. “You can start cooking…” She waits five seconds. “Now.”

Ramsay instantly takes hold of his basket and shifts through the ingredients, then takes his cane to retrieve most of what he’ll need to cook. And limps them back to the station

“Good luck, Mr. Gold.” Regina waited for his return just to wish him luck.

“Thank you, chef.” He quickly fills a pot with hot water so that it boils quickly.

As the camera crew shoots close ups of Ramsay’s cooking, he drops beef fat into a baking dish that resembles a cupcake pan and slips it into the oven to heat. He then starts on a thin popover batter that he’ll bake and serve alongside with the steak. After that, he drops multi colored petite potatoes into the boiling water, par-cooking them for what he plans to do with them next.

“Ramsay is really focused during this challenge,” Graham speaks among the other judges. “He's in a zone and knows exactly what he's doing.”

“How can he not?” Regina snickers. “He's a Scot with meat and potatoes…. He’s the happiest person in this kitchen right now. The time hasn't fazed him at all.”

“It's a huge turnaround from the Mystery Box,” David replies, peeking over at Ramsay and he seasons the steak with the finesse of a man that has cooked thousands of cows in his lifetime. Can he be anymore in his comfort zone?

“Yes it is a big turnaround.” Regina answers with a nod, slipping her hands into the jacket pockets of her black pant suit. “Belle gave him that steak for a reason. She wants to keep him in the game.”

“But, why?” Not getting rid of Ramsay doesn't make much sense to Graham. “He's been one of the top runners from the start. Why not take him out when he's down?”

“I don't know, but she seems to have a plan.” David answers. “Maybe she's looking for an ally? Or maybe she wants it to be just them at the end. So that she can take him out where he's really hungry for the win?”

“Can't really say though.” Regina takes a glimpse at Belle from over her shoulder, then faces back to her fellow judges. “She can be hard to read. I just hope this choice doesn't come back to bite her in the long run. Ramsay is strong headed, determined to win, and Belle knows that.”

They all stand puzzled for a moment, trying to understand Belle’s choice, then they return their attention back to the challenge.

Belle knows exactly why she played the cards this way. The judges will have to continue with their speculating. “Ramsay, your potatoes are over boiling,” she informs him.

Ramsay stands from checking the popovers in the oven and removes the potatoes from the stove. “Oh… Thank you, Dearie.” He wipes the sweat from his brow with the towel hanging on the oven door and toss the towel out of the way so that he doesn't use it again.

“You can't help him,” Killian grips to Belle, pointing his wooden spoon up at her.

She leans over the balcony railing just a bit and cups her hand around her mouth. “It's too late for that, Killy.” She tilts back onto the balcony, chuckling to herself. She's having too much fun with this challenge.

Killain grumbles and continues cooking. He can see her back stabbing plan from where he stands.

The challenge ticks closer to the end, as Ramsay lightly smash each of the par-cooked potatoes into little round disks, being careful to use a clean towel so that he doesn't burn himself, and drops them in a sautée pan with olive oil to fry. Looking to gain a golden brown color and crispy skin on them. With the final twelve minutes on the clock, he places the steak in a hot cast iron skillet.

Ramsay can cook a rib-eye steak to the perfect medium in just eight minutes, but he allows himself extra time so that the steak has proper time to rest.

“Everyone should be thinking about plating,” David reminds them. He's a firm believer that the plating of a dish is just as important as the taste.

Ramsay hobbles away from his station and collects a white square plate to serve his immaculate steak upon. He observes the competition as he makes his way back to the station and everyone appears to be in good shape with their dishes. The judges may have a tough task awaiting them.

“Five minutes left.” David begins the countdown.

Belle watches with bated breath as everyone scrambles to the finish line.

Ramsay finishes his steak, basting it in the pan with herbs and melted butter, one of his favorite techniques to coax more flavor onto the meat. He then removes it from the flame, allowing it the rest on the cutting board and quickly follows suit with the finishing touches on the potatoes. Tossing them with freshly chopped herbs and a light sprinkling of grated parmesan cheese. Feeling as if everything is coming together nicely and nothing can halt his momentum. He removes the popovers from the oven, they’ve baked perfectly, rising to the occasion of his big win. Ramsay delicately arranges his potatoes on the plate as David Nolan starts the countdown of the final seconds.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

Ramsay places the flawless steak on the plate, arranging it artfully next to the potatoes. He rests a popover beside the steak as the crowning jewel, so the judges will have something to mop up all the juices that will flow from the steak once they cut into its tenderness.

Ramsay thinks it should be against the law to serve such a stunning piece of meat with a knife. A spoon could easily cut through this baby.

He cleans the edges of the plate, removing any smudges or fingerprints and tosses the towel to the side. Ramsay proudly throws his hands up in the air before David finishes the countdown.

Elimination Challenge: fucking nailed.

“Three, two, one. Time is up.”

Belle claps her hands with enthusiasm to congratulate her fellow contestants. Every dish looks incredible from where she stands and she's glad she doesn't have the difficult task of judgment.

 

**\-------**

 

After filming closes up shot of each dish and a table is set up on the stage for the judges, the tasting of the challenge begins. David, Regina and Graham each taste and critique the dishes from Zelena, Emma and Killian.

They give Killian’s seafood with wild mushroom risotto high praises and move on to Zelena’s Asian mushroom soup. Which is light and packed with lots of Chinese flavors.  _“The queen of sauces and stocks strikes again with her flawlessness,”_  where Regina exact words upon trying Zelena’s soup.

Next is Emma's vegetation portobello mushroom burger. So juicy and delicious with it's handmade creamy aioli mayo. No one missed the beef patty at all.

Each judge is satisfied with the last three dishes and the tasting continues with Ramsay's steak.

“Ramsay Gold, you're up next,” Chef Graham calls.

He carries his majestic dish up to the stage and gently places it before the judge. 

Graham turns the plate, viewing it from all sides, and everything appears to be absolutely gorgeous. “How do you feel about being the only one with a steak?”, he asks, making the first cut into the rib-eye.

“I feel very lucky.” He glances up at Belle with a sly smirk upon his face and turns back to the judge. “After that embarrassing Mystery Box round, a steak was exactly what I needed to prove that I'm still here to win.”

“Indeed it was, because this steak is cooked perfectly.”

“Thank you.” He nods, knowing all along that the temperature on the steak was exactly where he wanted it to be.

“It's very tender and it didn't lose one ounce of its juiciness. The popover…” He cuts through the light and airy accompaniment, sopping up a bit of the meats natural sauce, and a piece of the crispy potato. Then takes the full experience of an orgasm on a plate, into his mouth. “…It's the perfect vehicle for cleaning up all of the savory juices on the plate.” Wipes his lips with a napkin. “Seriously, I want to eat the whole thing.”

Ramsay's day has turned a complete three-sixty and he couldn't be more thrilled about it.

“I think you would have been out, had anyone else won the Mystery Box.”

“Quite possibly, but I wouldn't bet on that.” Just because Ramsay didn't want the mushrooms, doesn't mean he wouldn't have knocked that challenge out of the ball park as well.

“I would still bet on that,” Graham answers back. “I think you have someone watching over you.”  Cuts his eyes up at Belle in the balcony “Which isn't such a bad thing,” he adds and steps away from the table, allowing the other judges to take a taste of perfection.

Regina and David taste the steak and they too are also blown away by it's flavor. Amazed at what he was able to do with thirty minutes less than his competitors.

Ramsay returns to his station, completely satisfied with his performance, and confidant that he has the win. All thanks to the little beekeeper librarian in the balcony.

The judging proceeds with Ruby’s spicy mushroom curry which is a tad too hot for Graham's taste, but David and Regina absolutely love it.

Lastly is Elsa's ravioli. Which has amazing flavor, but suffers from a small technical error. Her pasta dough started to crumble in the pasta maker, prompting her to start it over. Elsa's second attempt was a success, but in the time crunch, she was unable to get the pasta as thin as she hoped. Resorting to an under-cooked dish. Small mistakes like this, so close to the end of the competition, are exactly what could send home one of the judge’s favorites.

“We need a moment to negotiate our final decision,” David announces and leads the way for the judges to confer among themselves in the pantry.

As the waiting game begins for the contestants, several of them are taken for interviews to recap their experience cooking during the challenge. Ramsay doesn't have much to say in front of the camera. What he has to say, he only wants the woman waiting in the balcony to hear.

After a few minutes, the judges return with their decision. It didn't take much time for them to come to a consensus.

All of the competitors that cooked for the challenge stand at their cook stations, ready to hear the final results.

“First we would like to announce the two best dishes.” Regina delivers what everyone’s been waiting for. “Ramsay…”

A smug little snicker escapes Ramsay's lips the instant he hears his name. He had no doubt that he would be called.

“…And Zelena. Congratulations.”  

All of the home cooks applause to salute the winners of today's challenge.

“Ramsay, you have the best dish of the overall.” Chef Regina adds, over the clapping hands.

Ramsay gazes over his fellow competitors, with a devious smirk curled upon his face. All of the cards fell in his favor.

“You will have first pick in the upcoming team challenge.”

“Thank you, chef,” he complacently replies and gives Killian another peek from over his shoulders. He needed to see the hot steam releasing from that wannabe-pirate’s ears one more time. Such a glorious sight.

“You and Zelena can join Belle up on the balcony.”

They make their way up the stairs to join Belle and watch how the rest of the competition plays out.

The judges don’t waste any time announcing who will be going home. They believe that all of the remaining home cooks are worthy of the Masterchef title, but the game must continue and one must make their departure. “With the numbers in the competition declining, we have to take into consideration every detail of the dishes you create,” David divulges and takes a deep breath. “Elsa, your time in the Masterchef kitchen is up. The pasta had a technical flaw that could not be overlooked.”  

Elsa’s heart sinks to the pit of her stomach, but she had the feeling that this would be the end of her Masterchef journey. Right now is where the competition is at its toughest. Elsa takes off her black apron, places it down on her cutting board and says her goodbyes to the judges. They each shake her hand, praising her performance during the whole of the competition, and the final six contestants applaud as she takes her leave. Elsa walks out of the large glass automatic doors, proud of how much she's grown and learned during this experience. Now it's time for her to return home to help plan and cater her sister wedding.

 

##  *********

 

The filming in the Masterchef studio is now a wraps and the top six competitors settle into the loft for the remainder of the day. Ramsay catches Belle on her way up satires and stops her to have a quick word about today’s challenge.

“Belle?” He places his left hand over her’s as she grips into the metal hand-railing.

“Yes?” She had a feeling they'd have some kind of conversation today.

“Can I… Umm… Talk to you?” He let's go of her hand.

“Yes,” she smiles and turns her course towards the loft’s balcony.

Outside, the autumn winds gently blows as the sun slowly sets behinds the Storybrooke City skyscrapers. Ramsay closes the glass sliding door and faces Belle. With no cameras around, he can finally tell her what’s on his mind. “I want to thank you.” He glances down at his right hand gripping tightly to the gold handle of his cane. “You didn't have to make the choice you made, but I'm thankful that you did.”

“You don't have to thank me.”

“Yes, Belle, I do,” he insists. “But I don't understand why you’d give me the one thing you knew I would have given myself.”

“Because you needed it.”

“What?”, he asks with a puzzled expression plastered on his face. Does she care about how he feels?

“I thought you needed something to prove to yourself that you weren't finished,” she explains. She could see and almost feel how heartbroken he was during the first test of the day. “I saw you in the Mystery Box Challenge. You looked like you were ready to give up… I… I don't think it was your time to go.”

“How do you know it wasn't?”

“I don't,” she shrugs. “But I took a gamble and it looks like it payed off.”

Ramsay's stomach slowly constricts into a tight knot and takes a few steps back. He can't remember the last time someone did something to be nice to him because they cared about his feeling. He isn't quite sure what to make of it. “But someone else went home because of your choice.”

“Elsa went home because of her mistake, not my choice.”

Ramsay gazes at Belle, with words on his tongue but he isn't sure if he should say them. She's supposed to be his competition, not his friend.

“Well… Well…” Killian abruptly whips open the sliding door. “If it isn't my two favorite schemers.” Steps out onto the balcony.

“No one here are schemers,” Belle says defensive.

“I would say giving a steak to the one person guaranteed not to screw it up, sounds like a bloody scheme to me,” Killian argues. “Everyone knows crocodiles love meat.” He snaps his right hand in Belle face, imitating the closing jaws of crocodile.

“You can go back inside now,” Ramsay snarls through his uneven teeth, stepping between Killain and Belle. Lowers his brows at the leather-clad-one-handed-artificial-pirate.

“So, this is your plan, eh?” Killian cuts his eyes at Belle. “To have someone to defend you?” Glares back at Ramsay. “Adorable,” he growls.

“I don't need anyone to defend me,” Belle barks back and places her hand on Ramsay's shoulder. “Excuse me, Ramsay.”

“You're excused, Dearie.” He steps out of her way and leans against his cane, giving Killian the stink eye.

“I can defend myself.” She jabs his shoulder with her index finger. “And if we were scheming, we'd do it in front of you. Just so you’d know about it.”

Killian looks down at her finger and she quickly remove it. Touching another contestant in anger is a violation of the rules and can result in a disqualification. “Don't ever touch me again, love.”

“I won't!”, she huffs.

“And keep your crocodile on its bloody leash.” He eyes Ramsay, fiercely. Killian believes he should have been the one going home, not Elsa. That joke of a performance during the Mystery Box should have been enough to boot out his biggest competition. People like Ramsay don’t deserve second chances. “I had no idea we were allowed to bring our pets.”

Ramsay growls, grinding his teeth and fights off the urge of impale Killian with his cane.

Killain turns away and heads back into the loft, closing the door behind him. He's had enough of these two timing schemers.

Ramsay sighs and turns his attention back to Belle. “I'm sorry about that, Belle,” he apologizes and takes her right hand.

“Sorry for what?” She faces him, tilting her head to the left. “You didn't do anything.”

“If I wouldn't have messed up the Mystery Box, you wouldn't have given me the steak and he wouldn't think such ridiculous things about you.”

“Ramsay, he would have thought ridiculous things anyways,” she chuckles.

“Oh… That's true.” He realizes he’s still holding her hand and instantly lets her go. Surprised that she never said a word.

“Well…” she sighs out, breaking the silence between them. “I'm going to in and change into something more comfortable.”

“Alright,” he slowly nods.

“Are you coming in too?”

“No… No…” Shakes his head. “I'm going to sit out here a little longer.”

“Okay… Would you mind if I came back to join you?”

“Oh… Umm…” he nervously clears his throat. “Yes… I mean no…” Corrects himself. “No, not at all. You may join me if you wish.” His face blushes with embarrassment.

“I do wish to join you.” She grins and opens the glass door. “I'll be right back.”

“Alright.” Ramsay takes a seat on the wooden patio chair, gazes at the skyline as the sun continues to set behind the buildings, and waits for Belle to return.


	5. Episode Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle French and Ramsay Gold have a chat on the loft balcony. He learns a little something about Belle’s life. The team challenge begins on the white sands of Storybrooke’s Neverland Beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank those who nominated this fic for Best TV AU in this years TEA’s. It means a lot to me. I feel a bit strange about it being the only choicee in that category, but some of you thought it deserved to be there, so thank you. Tagging @ripperblackstaff in this because this whole verse is a love letter to her. (∩˃o˂∩)♡ I hope she enjoys it and also everyone else. Happy reading!

As the sun sets in the Western Hemisphere, a light wind flows through the silvery threads of Ramsay Gold’s hair. He sits on the balcony of the Masterchef loft, watching the evening sky fade through a kaleidoscope of orange and yellows. Waiting patiently for Belle French’s return.

When he witnesses the first star twinkle in the darkening sky above the bustling city, Belle slides open the balcony door.

She steps out from the loft, wrapped in a heavy quilt with a bee and book pattern stitched into the blanket, and takes the only seat next to Ramsay.

“Well you look comfortable,” Ramsay sits back in the chair, crossing his right leg over the left. Trying to exhibit only confidence.  

“I told you that's what I was going inside to do.” She crosses her legs in the chair and covers her feet with the quilt.

“Yes, you did,” he chortles anxiously for an instant and clears his throat. Must take control over these unintentional reactions. “I didn't expect this level of comfort ability." He manages to speak more self-assured and looks off into the horizon.

Belle smiles at him, his little titter was unpredictable. “What level of comfort ability were you expecting?” She bundles the quilt tightly around herself.

“I don't know,” he says with a merger shrug of the left shoulder. “Putting on a jacket, I suppose.”

“A jacket doesn't scream comfortable.”

“Jackets can be comfortable,” he expresses.

“Yes they can, but they're not the poster child of comfort ability.”

“I wouldn't know.” He shrugs again. “I'm not a fashion guru.”

“You could have fooled me. You're always smartly dressed in those expensive suits of yours.”

“This one's not expensive.” He brushes out a winkle from the leg of his pants. He only noticed it since they're talking about clothing. “My son gave it to me and he's not the expensive type.”

“Oh, I see.” She touches his arm, feeling the soft fabric. “It's a nice suit.”

He removes his arm from the armrest of the chair, pulling himself away from her curious touch.

She takes in a sharp breath when he shies away from her. They were holding hands just moments ago. Now it seem as though the walls Ramsay hides behind are two times thicker. “I'm sorry,” Belle apologizes. She never meant for him to feel uncomfortable around her.

“Don't be.” He folds his hands in his lap.

They sit quietly for an instant, watching the final seconds of the sun's light fade away. The lights of the city begin to glow.

“There's nothing wrong with expensive taste,” Belle breaks the silence between them. Continuing their small talk. “Expensive things aren't for me. Not at the moment at least.”

“I can understand that,” he replies.

“I just can't afford any luxury items right now.”

“I can understand that too.”

“You can?” Belle has always thought he was to kind of person who never had to worry about money in his lifetime.

He closes his eyes and slowly nods yes as his answer.

“Oh…” She blinks and shifts in the chair.

Silence falls between them once again.

“You know,” Belle breaks through the hushed void. “This is probably the longest conversation we've had outside of the kitchen. And we’re sitting here talking about jackets and blankets.”

“While we're still on the subject of jackets and blankets, where did you get your blanket anyway?” He's never seen anything like her honeybee and book patterned quilt in his life. Such an odd combination.

“Why? Do you like it?”

“No,” he turns his head to her, with widen eyes, insisting on lie he's trying to pass as truth. He does like her blanket, just a little. “I… I've just never seen something like it.” He turns back towards the city skyline. “That's all.”

“I see.” She covers her smile with the blanket, giggling softly to herself. He's reaction was almost like a teen aged boy’s. “Someone made it for me.”

“Well, it's unique. It looks like it was crafted by someone who knew what they were doing.”

“It was,” she says with nod. “It’s very soft. Would you like to feel it?”  

“No thank you,” he respectfully declines, sitting up straight in the chair. He's already held her hand on an impulse that he didn’t try to fight. Now that his has more control himself, he won't be giving into that urge again.

“Okay.” She caresses the soft quilt across her cheek. “My mother made it for me,” she confides. “She would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I’d answer beekeeper or bookkeeper.” Belle smiles for an instant and then it fades from her face. “At the time, I didn't know why she kept asking, but she was making this quilt for me as a surprise. She wanted to put my future career on it. I never gave her a straight answer so she made the blanket with both.”

Ramsay thinks her story is very sweet, but he doesn't understand why she's telling him.

“She died a few years after finishing it.”

Now he understands why she's talking about her mother. The blanket is connected to the fond memories of her. But Ramsay still can't comprehend why she's telling him. They barely even know each other.

“She had a sudden heart attack.” Belle smells the blanket, trying to remember the scent of her mother. “It's crazy isn't it? Someone that young dying suddenly from a heart attack. They never figured out what caused it.”

He faces her and gazes into her sapphire eyes. He fully understands that deep feeling of loss. “You have my sympathies, Belle.”

“Thank you, Ramsay, but it's okay. This happened years ago.”

“But something like that can still hurt.”

“Yes, it can and it does.” She stiffs and fights back tears from old wounds trying to reopen. “My father, he was… He was a very different man then. Overly protective of me, you might say,” she explains. There's something about Ramsay that makes her feel like she can open up to him and tell him anything. “What happened to my mother scared him and completely broke his heart. He didn't know what to do. He didn't think he could find a place in the world again and didn't want me to get hurt in it.”

Ramsay didn’t think she’d have such a story to tell. He only thought of all the contestants as pieces in a game that needed to be knocked down and pushed out of his way. He never really saw them as people and didn’t want to hear anyone's story until now.

“What changed?”, he asks. “You know, since you're talking about it.” He wants her to think that he cares only because their together in this moment. It could be catastrophic to his plans in the Masterchef kitchen if she ever knew that he had a real concern.

“Between my father and I?”

“Yes, I saw you earlier with him,” he replies to her question. “It didn't seem like you have a troubled relationship.” Something about the relationship Belle has with her father, reminds him of the one he has with his own son.

“That’s because we don't. Not anymore,” she answers truthfully. “Keeping me from living my own life is not the way my mother wanted to raise me. It wasn't the way he wanted to raise me either. After living a few years in our own isolation, he realized everything was all wrong and how unhappy I was. There was nothing in Australia for us anymore and we needed to start somewhere new. So we came to America for a new life together.” Belle remembers that conversation with her father like it happened only yesterday. Their move to the US changed their lives for the better.

“It’s nice you were able to find happiness with your father.” Ramsay can only dream of that kind of reconciliation with his own son.

“Thank you, Ramsay.”

“Your welcome.”

They take pleasure in another quiet moment, gazing at the lights illuminating the city.

Neither of them would have ever guessed that they’d be each other's company just a few hours ago. They wouldn't have comprehended sitting comfortably and enjoy a silence night together. It's just something they never saw in their future.

Belle wants to know more about the man sitting next to her. So she breaks the pleasing silence between them.

“What about you?”, she asks, seeking to get him to talk a little more. He hasn't said much about himself.

“What about me?”

“I don't know, anything, I suppose. I’d like to hear more about you or your son.”

Ramsay closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, then turns to face Belle. “With all due respect, Miss French.” He licks his lips, drying out from the cold wind. “I think it might be best for us to go inside.” Ramsay thinks that Belle is a kind, but this isn't a conversation he’s willing to have at the moment.

She blinks, unsure of this sudden change of scenery. “I thought we were getting along.”

“We are, Miss French,” he assures her. “But it's getting chilly tonight. And although your blanket look nice and warm, you could still catch a cold. I would blame myself if you ever got sick.”

“Why would you blame yourself if I got a cold?”

“Because I'm the only reason why you're out here.” He stands from the chair and leans against his cane. Ready to accompany her inside.

“Alright… Well… I enjoyed our conversation. I'd like to have another one soon.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he says with a smile. Slipping his left hand into his pocket, keeping the right firmly griped to the gold handle of the cane.

She stands from her seat, wrapping the blanket over her shoulders.

He steps to the balcony and slides open the glass door. She steps inside and he follows in behind her. They each go their separate ways.

Belle spends the rest of the evening with the other Masterchef contestants. They drink white wine and eat the spicy shrimp fettuccini Emma and Ruby cooked for everyone.

Ramsay takes his plate up to his bedroom and spends the rest of the evening alone.

##  *********

The noon sun sits high over the gorgeous white sands of Storybrooke’s Neverland Beach. The Masterchef contestants arrive on the scene in the two jeeps that have driven them from the studio. They step out onto this pristine location where two large tents set up along the coastline.

Here is where the cooking for the team challenge will commence.

The three judges stand between the empty space separating the tents. They wait for the contestants to remove the bags that they were each asked to pack, and meet up with them down on the sand.

Ramsay Gold is already dreading this challenge. The beach isn't much fun for a man with a cane.

“Do you need any help getting through the sand?”, Belle asks. Looking to assist him in making it to the judges in one piece.

“No, no, I've got it,” he insist. Removing his bag from the floor of the jeep and carefully embarks on his journey through the sand.

Belle watches as Ramsay fights to keep his balance on the cane. He early trips over his own feet as he juggles the weight of the bag on his shoulders. She looks on with bated breath, afraid that he’d tip face forward into the sand at any given moment. “Let me carry your bag at least,” she urges. Rushing up behind the wobbling millionaire in a three piece suit. “You can hardly keep your balance.”

Had Ramsay known they would be heading to the beach, he wouldn't have packed his bag so hefty. “It's alright. The bag might be too heavy for you. I don't want you to strain yourself.”  

“I can handle it. My arms aren't gonna break,” she replies.

If anyone is going to break anything it would be Ramsay Gold. He’ll never make it to the judges alive at the rate he's going.

Ramsay stops his mad ascent through the sand and drops the bag from his shoulders. “Are you sure?”, he takes a ruffled breath, tired from his short scuttle from the jeep.

“About my arms breaking? Yeah, I'm pretty sure about that.”

“No. Not that,” he chuckles. “About carrying my stuff. If you really don't mind,” he takes another breath. “I'd like to take you up on the offer.”

“I wouldn't be asking to help if I didn't mind.” She picks up his bag from the sand. It is a lot heavier than it looks, but it’s nothing the petite librarian can't handle.

“Thank you, Belle,” he expresses his gratitude. He would be lying flat on his face had she not offered to help.

“You're most welcome.”

Ramsay and Belle make it safely to the judges just a few paces behind the other contestants.

##  **\-----**

The Masterchef crew sets up cameras for panoramic views of the stunning beach and cast. They equip each contestant with personal waterproof microphones and set up other filming gizmos to catch all the exciting moments of this episode.

After getting the go ahead from the producers, the announcements for today's team challenge begins.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Chef Graham greets the contestants. “And welcome to Neverland Beach.”

The contestants applaud, excited for the task awaiting them. Everyone applauds, except for Ramsay Gold.

He looks over towards his nemesis, Killain Jones.

Killain glares back at Ramsay with a detestable grin upon his face.

They each have a feeling that this challenge will be centered around seafood. This is exactly the kind of test Killian knows he can excel.

Ramsay knows that he will be team captain on the challenge. And he's hoping that the advantage will be the choosing of the teams. However worthy Killian's skills might be with cooking creatures from the deep, Ramsay doesn't want or need a one-hand-wonder on his team.

“You're all probably wondering why we asked everyone to pack a bag.” Graham continues to say.

“Yes chef,” the contestants reply.

“You will be spending your day at the beach quite literally,” he adds and turns the announcements over to Regina.

“In today's team challenge you will be working in two groups of three.” She crosses her hands behind her back. “And you will have the entire ocean at your disposal.”

The contestant glare among themselves, curious of today's test.

“This unique seafood challenge is unlike anything we’ve ever done,” David Nolan says. “Each team will have until this time tomorrow to complete the test. That’s a twenty-four hour time frame.” He pauses, letting the competitors take in what they've learned so far. “Your challenge is to create a stunning three course seafood lunch for us.” He points to himself and his fellow judges. “To enjoy tomorrow. You will be required to make two amazing fish dishes and one shellfish dish. Sounds easy enough, right?”

“Yes, sir,” they answer immediately.

“Well it’s not, _quite_ , that easy,” Regina chimes in. “One person from each team will have to go out and catch your fish.”

“That's correct,” David continues. “Just down the coast there is a docked fishing boat. It's waiting to take two of you five miles off the coast to fish for the lunch you'll be serving us. Each team will have to catch two different fish to clean and cook right here on this beach." He points down at the sandy floor. "You can fish for how many different species you want and bring them back to your team. But you have to make a choice and only pick two to cook with... Not only will you be fishing, but you will be collecting as well. During the low tide, the contestants _that did not go fishing_ will have to collect shellfish right off the beach. They will the main feature in your third dish.”   

Ruby raises her hand and speaks without being announced. “Low tide? But that would mean we’d have to be on the beach early in the morning.”

“Yes, you are correct, Ruby,” Chef Graham answers. “Which is the reason for your packed bags,” he smirks. “All for your convenience, you will be spending the night right here on the beach.”

The sounds escaping from the lips of all the contestants are a mix of disappointed groans and excited squeals.

Chef Regina chuckles to herself as she looks over all the faces. She can tell who's looking forward to this challenge and who clearly isn't. “You have the entire time to catch your fish, plan your dishes and execute your menu as you see fit." She says and points to one of the tents. “At your camps you will find a large crate stocked with a limited pantry of ingredients to help elevate your seafood menu.” She turns back to the competitors. “We will be expecting high quality restaurant style food to come out from these two camps.” She grins, folding her hands together. “This is quite possibly the toughest challenge we've had on the show. The losing team of this challenge will be facing the dreaded Pressure Test.” 

“Ready to begin?”, Graham asks.

No matter how everyone feels about this challenge, they all still answer the judge. “Yes, chef.”

“For winning yesterday's Elimination Challenge, Zelena and Ramsay will be the team captains.” Graham pulls out two aprons that were rolled and tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. He then steps forward, handing the blue apron to Zelena and Ramsay the red. “Ramsay, you made the best dish yesterday. You will have the advantage of first pick for your team.”

Zelena and Ramsay stand with the judges and gaze upon the four remaining contestants. Having first pick is exactly what Ramsay wanted.

“Ramsay, who is your first choice?”, Chef Regina asks, giving him the green light to start his selection.

Ramsay Gold has no doubt who his first pick will be and he doesn't feel the need to explain his choice. “Belle French,” he says, exceedingly confident with having her by his side. It was a no brainer for him to pick the smartest in the group.

Belle claps her hands with enthusiasm and stands next to her captain. She's thrilled about being on Ramsay’s team and relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with Zelena’s shenanigans in another team challenge.

Now it’s Zelena’s turn to make her choice. “I believe the million dollar man made the wrong choice in choosing the librarian first.” She crosses her arms, shifting her weight to the left. “He clearly isn't thinking with the right head. He quite possibly handed me the win with the person I’m going to choose.”

“You're so long winded, Zelena,” Ramsay groans through his teeth with a merger eye roll.

She could have just made her choice, she didn't have to take any cheap shots.

“Oh, shut up. You've had your turn,” Zelena fires back and announces her first pick. “Bring your leather clad caboose my way Captain Jones.”

Killain Jones flashes his devilishly handsome grin at the judges as he makes his way to Zelena's side. He is a bit disappointed that he wasn't first pick, but he can over look Ramsay’s foolish choice. He’s _clearly_ the VIP contestant of this challenge. And not picking the only person that has the seas running through their veins is a simpleminded choice he expected Ramsay to make. He never wanted to work with the crocodile anyhow.

Killian is here to catch and cook water dwelling creatures, not to take orders from them.

“Ramsay, this is your last pick,” Regina says. “You'll be choosing for both teams.”

Ramsay looks over his final two choices. Either of them could add value to his team. He knows Emma is an excellent cook and her simple home-style could come in handy in a seafood challenge. Ramsay also thinks Belle and Emma’s styles border around the same territory, but Belle’s is more superior in his opinion.

Does he really need two people with the same taste on his team? He already has the best of them.

Ruby, on the hand, has fire in her blood. Her skills with spices could be what separates his team from the other. She can be a bit heavy handed with the heat, but under the right leadership, a fire breathing wolf like Ruby can be tamed.

“My final pick,” Ramsay says, after analyzing his choices. “Is someone I believe that possesses a knowledge that could be invaluable to my team's success. Miss Ruby Lucas.”

Ruby stands motionless, eyes bugged out of her skull. She could have sworn he was going to pick Emma. She always thought he saw Emma as a more valuable player.  

Ruby pulls herself out from this eye-opening-bombshell and stands by Ramsay’s side. She’s not only taken aback by his choice of her, but also this _knowledge_ he says she might own. She's just a simple girl that loves the heat.

Zelena sighs, rolling her eyes and uncrosses her arms. “Looks like I'm stuck with the blond. I wanted the fiery one.”

“Don't be so overjoyed,” Emma comments as she takes her place next to Killian.

“No matter.” Zelana crosses her arms with confidence. “I already have something they don't. I have a genuine captain of the seas.”

“Now that the teams have been chosen,” Regina states and gives them one last bit of information. “You have one hour from now to set up your camps and start a game plan. In one hour your fishing boat will leave port and the boat captain will not hesitate to leave without you. Also, I will be staying with you as a means of guidance and support. David and Graham will be heading home and they will see you all tomorrow at lunch.”

##  **\-----**

  
After all the announcements and the departure of the two judges, the contestants pick up their bags and scatter to the tent that has been assigned to them. They use their time, wisely, to set up a basic plan.

Ramsay Gold isn't too thrilled about this challenge. It requires something he's never done in his life, fishing. But Ramsay is going to be the best leader he knows he is and organize his team by taking into account their strengths.

“The first thing we need to do.” Ramsay kicks off his three-hundred dollar, genuine, alligator leather dress shoes and hobbles to the tent. He can walk better on the beach without them. “Is figure out who's more comfortable with the fishing. There's no way that I can go out there, otherwise I would.”

“I've never been fishing before,” Belle divulges to her team. “But I've read about it once. During my the first week on the job at the library, I came across the fishing section and I read a few of the fishing magazines. I don't know much, but I do know enough to try.”

“I've been fishing with my grandmother a few times,” Ruby confesses. “It was nothing like this, we went fishing on a lake, but I know how to bait a hook.”

“That's more experience than Belle and I have combine.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says with a nod.

“Do you think you can go out there and catch something,” he asks. Ruby is their only hope for getting the proteins they need.

“Yeah, I think so,” she says with a shrug.

“Are you sure? Because I will try if you're not comfortable.”

Her lips may be telling him that she’s capable of completing the task, but her body language is saying something else.

“Yes, yes I'm sure. I know I can catch something,” she guarantees, straightening her posture to display only confidence.

“Okay,” Ramsay takes her for her word. His sits on top of the large wood pantry crate, relieving his weak ankle from the weight of his body, and informs the team of the rest of his plans. “I think it's best that we plan our menu around whatever Ruby can catch. This way, we won't have to go back on any ideas if she doesn't get what we need.”

“That makes sense,” Belle agrees.

“It’s the only way I see this challenge being done,” he says and turns his attention to Ruby. “Bring everything you can catch. Throw nothing back.”

##  **\-----**

Across the beach at the blue team’s camp, team captain Zelena is organizing her plan for the challenge.

“Killain, what kind of fish can we find in these waters?”, she asks as she opens the pantry crate to see what they have to play with.

“There's hundreds of species out there, tuna, snapper, monk fish, bass,” Killian explains. He has fished coasts like Neverland Beach for decades. He knows exactly what fish they can find in this part of the world. “Dozens and dozens of flavorful fish. Is there something in particular you'd like me to look out for?”

“I have a recipe for a gorgeous fish soup to start tomorrow's lunch.” Zelena answers, eyes glistening from all the amazing fresh ingredients in the box. So many aromatics to flavor her stock. “I'm going to need a firm fleshed fish like a snapper or red fish.”

“I can try, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Just bring back stunning fish. No trash like catfish or tilapia.”

“Real, fresh, tilapia is actually a very good fish to use,” Emma chimes in. She doesn't think they should exclude a fish just because one person thinks it's no good. The challenge is hard enough without someone being picky. “It's very versatile and flavorful,” she goes on to say. “Wild tilapia is nothing like the stuff they farm and cram into the supermarket. This ocean is probably filled with them and I think we should use it if he catches one.”

Zelena lifts her head from the box, staring daggers at Emma.  How dare she undermine the team captain. “I. Do. Not. Want. Tilapia,” she emphases every word, tilting her head to the right. “It's trash,” she hisses. “You may be comfortable serving the judges a trash fish. Blondie. But I'm not.”

“The next time you call me Blondie, you're going to regret it.”

“Huh,” Zelena huffs and continues digging through the box. “I doubt it.”

Emma grinds her teeth and her eyes full with fury. The challenge has just started and she's already ready to kick sand in the ginger witch's face. In fact. Emma storms towards Zelena.

“Hold on there, love.” Killian steps in Emma’s path, stopping her from ruining any chances of him winning. “I know that look on your face and whatever you're thinking, it might be best not to act upon it.” He leans into Emma and speaks to her in a hushed voice. “We all know she's a little...” He makes a gesture with his hand to his head, indicating Zelena’s unstable state of mind. “We just have to deal with it for one day. Aye?”

“Ugh, fine.” Emma drops her guard. “But if she calls me Blondie one more time.”

“I know, love, I know.”

##  **\-----**

Five miles off the coast of Neverland Beach, Killain Jones and Ruby Lucas are nearly an hour into their fishing venture. Neither of them have received a single bite from any fish.

“I thought you were supposed to be the fishing expert in all of this,” Ruby scorns her competition. “You have as much skill in fishing, as I do in building a spaceship and flying it to the next galaxy.”

“You just sit there and watch, love,” he winks at her. “And I'll show you what I can do with my pole.”

“Ugh,” she grunts with disgust and shivers from the chill shooting down her spin. “That was not smooth at all.”

He laughs to himself and reels in his line just a nudge.

With Killian’s disability of an amputated left hand, (Which he lost while working out on the open seas.) he's unable to grip a standard fishing pole. He wears an adjustable harness on his upper body, which straps around the shoulders and waist. His fishing rod is attached to a holder on the front of the harness which can be easily adjusted to any angle he chooses. With the rod in this specially designed harness, he can control it with complete freedom to move around and reel in any catch with his only functional hand.

Suddenly, there's a snag on Killian’s line. The battle between man and sea beast finally begins.

He winds in the reel, giving way to some of the tension so the line doesn't break, and reels in more. Using the strength of his legs and back to bring the fish closer to the boat.

Killian's now stuck in a power struggle, but it's nothing he hasn't tackled before. He's determined to bring home whatever's at the end of his hook.

The fish rises to the surface, slapping it's fins against the blue salt water, slowly inching closer to its deadly fate in the boat.

“Ha ha! I think it's a tuna!” Killian reels in more of the line.

The epic battle is nearly over and the tuna is finding itself on the losing side.

The camera crew watches through their lenses with bated breath, filming every moment of this majestic catch.

“Get it! Get it! Get it!”, Ruby cheers him on. Though he's on the opposite team, she's still consumed by the exciting matchup between man and fish.

“Oh I will,” he winds up the last few feet and pull the twenty pound fish out of the water. “It's beautiful.”

The boat's captain assists Killian with his catch by taking hold of a hardwood plank to bop the scaled creature out of its misery. He leans over the boat, grabs the fish's fin and brings it on board, immediately ending its life with one solid whack.

“Now that's how you reel them in, love,” Killian gloats, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“It wasn’t _that_ impressive,” Ruby grips with an eye roll and recasts her fishing line.

##  **\-----**

Back on the beach, the remaining members of the teams set up their campsites. They roll out the sleeping bags inside the large tents and set up their camp kitchens outside. They also take inventory of all of the cooking equipment they have at their disposal. It isn't much, but everything they need to cook an amazing meal is within their reach.

After making their camp a more livable space, Belle sits next to their pantry box, finding herself studying Ramsay Gold.

He remove his suit jacket and takes off his black and purple tie, tossing them on the beach floor next to his shoes.

Belle hasn't seen him this causal since the morning she scared him awake by sneezing in his face. She admires his appearances at the moment, hair disheveled and flowing in the salty air. There's something about him she's starting to find attractive.

Ramsay loosens his leather belt a few notches and untucks his shirt, making himself more comfortable for his temporary life on the beach. “What do you think, Belle?” He turn to face her and finds her eyes fixed on him.

Was she watching this entire time?

Belle’s cheeks blooms with embarrassment and she immediately turns her body towards the ocean. “What do I think about what?”, she clears her throat.

Now he knows she was watching, but he isn't going to make her feel self-aware by mentioning it.

What's in a little harmless stare anyways?

Ramsay hobbles next to her and takes a seat. “What do you think about the crate?”, he finally asks. “Should we look through it now?” He looks over at the blue team’s camp and it appears as though Zelena and Emma are desperately trying their best not to kill each other.

“Yes, I think we should. I'm curious to know what we have to work with,” she answers.

“Alright.”

They both turn their bodies toward the crate, sit up on their knees and each take a hold of the top.  They lift the top together and view the abundant fresh, canned, and pickled ingredients. Spices, herbs, fruit and vegetable all within their grasp.

Any chef would be thrilled to have such an elaborate array of food to work with on the beach.

Ramsay slowly shakes his head. “Huh,” he huffs and a chuckle immediately follows.

“What's so funny?”

“This,” he answers

Belle looks at the food in the box then back at him. “I don't get it,” she shrugs.

“There's a lot of food in here.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I can see that.”

“I'm thinking the judges might be trying to trip us up by giving us so much food. They want to see if we go crazy with all of this.”

“Really?”

“I don't know, but it's just a guess.” He's seen the show many times and has a good understanding of the judges personality. “I know they like to do that short of thing on this show, especially, Regina.”

“You know, that's so true. Now that I think about it.”

“I may be wrong, but we should try not to use too many flavors and just let the seafood speak for itself,” he suggests. He's seen many contestants sent home for overdoing their dishes with too many ingredients. “We’ll keep things simple, but elevated to the level they're expecting.”

Belle smiles and nods agreeingly. This is exactly how she would assist the situation, had she'd been captain instead. “I like the way you think, Ramsay.”

“Thank you, dearie,” he grins and places the top back onto the crate.

“I really do mean that,” she says, wholeheartedly. She's unsure of the reason why, but feels the need to tell him what she thinks of him. “I love your recipes, they’re amazing, and you're an excellent chef.”

He gazes into her eyes, so engaging in this unbelievable beach setting. “Thank you, again,” his face flushes scarlet. He didn't expect her to say such kind words. “Your a tremendous chef yourself,” returns the compliment. He's never said that to anyone else aloud.

“You really think so?” Her cheeks bloom a pink tinge as well and she bushes her hair behind her ear, keeping it from catching in the wind.

“Yes.” He licks his lips and stroked the hair from his face. “That's why I picked you first. I know whatever team you're on is bound for success.”

She giggles into her hand and rests it on top of the crate next to his.

Ramsay fixes his eyes on hers, losing himself in her deep ocean blues. He rather look into them than real ocean.

Such a strange, yet pleasant, feeling is surrounding the air around them. They both sense a physical pull trying to draw them nearer to each other.

Belle slowly inches her hand closer to his and runs her thumb softly over his hand. His skin is as smooth at it looks.

Ramsay's eyes widened and his body trembles, but he doesn't move away from her delicate touch.

“Is this okay?”, she asks, biting her bottom lip. She knows she shouldn't have touched him without asking permission first. Especially after the way he responded the last time she did, but something is different this time around.

“Umm… “, he clears out the scratchy, dry, sensation in the back of his throat. He enjoys the way her finger tickles his flesh, but why does she suddenly have this urge to touch him? Why do they both have this yearning? “Miss French,” he clears his throat again.

“I'm sorry.” She moves her hand away.

Why can't she take more control over this need to touch him? He clearly doesn't like it.

“Belle,” he murmurs in his breathy Scottish brogue. “I was just going to ask you why.”

She tilts her head slightly to the left and blinks. “Ask me why about what?”

“Why you were gently stroking my hand?” He slowly crawls his hand towards hers, little by little. “Why do I feel this pull to you?” Lightly nudges her hand with his own. “And why do I like it?”

“I don't know,” she snickers and softly runs her thumb across his skin again. “But I like it too.”

Ramsay's heart thumps out of his chest. It's the fasted he's ever felt it during the whole of the competition.

Now he knows what he has to do next.  

He slowly lifts his hand, cups it over hers, holding her palm in his own.

They both smile and lower their heads, giggling. This single touch is the most electrifying sensation between them.

Zelena watches this repugnant display from her camp. Unsure of what detestable things are cooking up between them. But as long as there’s air filling her lungs, she isn’t going to let whatever’s starting to sprout develop any further. The Millionaire Scottish Carnivore is her prize to be won.  


Zelena stands and storms towards the red team’s camp, kicking up sand from underneath her feet with every step.  


When she thunders pass Ramsay and Belle, a shower of sand fly in their direction. Breaking up their intimate connection.  


“What the hell, Zelena?!” Ramsay and Belle roar in unison and let go of each other’s hand. Instantly annoyed by Zelena’s childish antics.  


“Oh, I’m sorry.” She turns back to them with a devious grin upon her face. “Did… Did I get sand on you?” She places her right hand on her chest, gazing at them with false concern.  


“You know you did. You were kicking it on purpose,” Belle argues, dusting the sand from her shirt.  


“I would never do such a thing and how dare you accuse me.” Zelena stomps her left foot. “I was only on my way to talk to the Chef.”  


“You didn’t have to walk this way at all,” Ramsay snarls through his uneven teeth. He’s had a feeling that Zelena has had some kind of bizarre infatuation with him from. He's notices this from the beginning of the competition. Her strange glances in his direction sends chills down his spine. “You could have went around the other way,” he barks.  


“No reason to get hostile.” She throws her hands in the air. “I didn’t mean it, geesh.” She crosses her arms with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “I was just walking a bit fast and the sand just kicked up behind me. Don’t. Take it. Personal.” She turns away from them, kicking more sand as she heads to Chef Regina’s tent.

“Are you alright, Belle?”, he sincerely questions. If it wasn't against the rules of the game, he’d shove Zelena into the ocean and feed her to the sharks.

“Yes, I'm okay,” she answers, dusting more sand from her shirt and lap.

“I'm sorry about that.”

“You don't have to apologize for her.”

“I just have a feeling that that was all my fault.”  

“It wasn't your fault, Ramsay,” she assures him. “It’s all her fault. She's just sour because we're going to win this challenge and she'll be the one going home.”

“You're right about that,” a short laugh escapes his lips.

“I know I am,” she smirks and turns her body toward the ocean.  

They sit quietly for a moment. Watching the seagulls fly above the water, hunting for their next meal.

“It's nice sitting here with you and watching the birds. It's so beautiful here that it's easy to forget that we’re in a cooking competition.” She digs her hand in the sand and let the fine grains fall through her fingers. “But I have a better idea to spend our time.”

“I'd like to hear it.”

“I brought my recipe book with me.”

“Oh,” he looks at her, arching a brow. He brought so much stuff with him, but didn't think to bring his own book. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I almost never leave without it.” She takes off her shoes and digs her feet into the warm sand. “You know, with all of those beautiful vegetables in the crate, it would be a shame not to use them for our dish tomorrow.”

“It would be a crime not to,” he says, flashing a half smile.

“Well, I have tons of recipes for vegetable scribbled down in my book. I was hoping you'd like the idea of going through it with me and bouncing ideas off of each other while we wait to see what Ruby brings us back.”

“I think that's a brilliant idea,” he instantly agrees.

“Great!” She hops to her feet and bounces to the tent. “I'll be right back.”

Ramsay turns his attention back to the seagulls swooping down from the air to skim the water for a fresh catch, and waits for Belle French to return with her recipe book.

##  **\-----**

It’s been four hours since Killian and Ruby started their fishing escapade. Killain has enough fish to bring back to his team for them to choose anything they’d like from his great bounty. Now he’s only fishing for sport to pass the time while he waits for Ruby to catch something.

However, Ruby hasn't been unsuccessful the entire time. She has caught… Something… Like a fishing net, seaweed and a small lemon shark. She nearly dropped dead when she saw the shark on her hook. The boat captain had to take her pole to pull the shark on board so he could safely remove the hook and toss the toothy sea beast back into the water.

Now that that debacle is over, she has her hook baited for the thousandth time and patiently waits for something she can keep.

“Do you think your going to get anything on that hook, love?” Killian asks, tossing his latest catch back into the ocean.

“I would if you’d stop catching all the fish and throwing them back.”

“So you're saying it's my fault you can't catch anything?” He baits his hook with fish meat, so he can battle it out with something more aggressive. “The ocean is vast, love. The only reason you can't catch anything is your lack of skill.”

“I’ll catch something,” she grumbles. “You freakin’ jerk,” says under her breath.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over all this fish I’m catching.”

“I SAID I’M GONNA…” Ruby doesn't get the chance to finish shouting her sentence, there’s a sudden tug on her line. “Ahhh!”, she squeaks. “I have something.” Ruby reels in the fishing line just as she's done many times today. Hoping and praying that whatever she has is a fish and that it stays on the hook.

“It might be the other piece of that net you caught earlier,” Killian laughs. “That's going to be exquisite chard on the grill.”

“You shut up!”, Ruby barks and winds in more of the line.

All of a sudden, the weight of the catch at the end of the line shifts. Whatever she has just gained about fifteen pounds.

“Ah!” she squeals and steadies her balance.

The fish slowly rises to the surface, as Ruby uses all she has to bring it closer to the boat. It's a tiring struggle between woman and ocean dweller, but she's dead set on taking this creature back to her team.

This tasty delight isn't slipping away. Not again.

Killian leans over the boat to take a look at her catch and he doesn’t think she's going to like what she has. “Aye, just a little more there and you've got the bloody bastard.” He takes a step back to get a good view of her face for when she lays eye on the star catch of the day.

Ruby closes her eyes, using all the strength in her arms and legs to pull back on her poll, lifting her catch from the deep.

And splashing out of the ocean emerges a powerful eight tentacle octopus.

“Holy crap!” Ruby's eyes nearly pop out of her skull. This is the last thing she wanted to catch.

Killian belts out in an open mouth laughter. The expression on her face was well worth the wait.

She pulls the octopus into the boat and the boat captain whacks it several times with his trusty plank. He assures her that it good and dead, but she still freaks as it continues to squirms on the boat floor. “Kill it! Someone kill it!”

“It’s dead, love,” Killian chuckles, as the boat captain scoops up the twitching octopus and places it into a bucket with a lid. “Their tentacles can continue moving for hours after they’ve died.”

“I know that, but it’s still freaky.” Ruby takes a seat to catch her breath and get over the shock. “That thing ate whatever I originally had on the hook. I felt it when it took it.”

“That happens sometimes. The bigger fish eats the little fish no matter where they're headed.”

“Well I’m heading back to camp. I’m done! I can’t do this anymore,” Ruby boldly declares.

“But you only caught one. You know you need two.”

“I know, but I’m not made for this. I’m not a fisher,” she yelps, letting out all of her frustration from the day. “I'm tired and I’m hungry and I just want to sleep.”

“I can see you are.” Killian has seen this kind of frustration before. This the breakdown of someone heading home and out of the competition.

Killian takes a moment and thinks over this current scenario. He could sit here and watch her meltdown continue, see how far she cracks before deciding to jump over the boat. He would pay good money to witness that kind of entertainment. Or he can head back to camp with his stunning catch and be the hero of his team… Or rather… Be the hero of both teams.

“You want to go back, aye?”, he asks, after analyzing the best possible scenario and choosing the one that would bring him the most joy.

“Yes,” she sighs, combining both hands through her long dark hair.

“Okay, look,” he sets up the deal. “There's nothing in the rules that states that I can’t help you.”

Ruby lifts her head to pay close attention to whatever’s about to fly from his mouth.

“I like a fair competition as much as the next man.” He unhooks his fishing harness and drops it on the floor. “Because when I beat your team, I want to beat you for having better food. Not because you couldn’t catch a bloody fish.” He bends over and digs through his bucket of fish. “Here…” tosses her the smallest fish from the catch. “It’s a herring. Good luck with that.”

She picks up the eighteen inch, one and a half pound fish. “You're just giving this to me?”

“Aye,” he nods, attaching his prosthetic hand back onto his left arm. “On one condition.”

“What's that?”

“You just make sure to let the crocodile know that he wouldn’t be completing this challenge without my help.”

She squints, unsure if this is real. Is this nightmare finally over? “That's it?”, she asks.

“Aye,” he says with a smirk and a wink. “It would kill him to know that that fish came from me.”

Ruby take a deep breath. This fish is better than no fish. “Fine,” she nods in agreement. “I’ll make sure that he knows.”

“Good.” Killian turns his back to her. “Captain, bring us back to port,” he orders, as if the boat’s his own.

##  **\-----**

The sun sets in the horizon as the temperature slowly begins to drop. Belle assists Ramsay in lighting the campfire, while Killian and Ruby return from fishing with their catch.

“Here.” Ruby drops her bucket before the team and storms to the tent.

Belle and Ramsay glimpse at each other, then watch Ruby enter the tent.

“Well that's not a good sign.” Belle pulls the bucket to herself.

“No. It isn't.” Ramsay leers over at the blue team's camp and Zelena is awkwardly hugging Killian. “Eesh,” his body quivers with disgust at the sight. “She's extremely happy.” This despicable display only makes Ramsay want to gouge his own eyes out.

Killian’s glares at Ramsay from afar and he salutes his foe with a cocky grin.

Ramsay grumbles and gives Killan the evil eye as he watches him makes his way to the blue team's tent.

“Ramsay,” Belle says, tapping him on the shoulder.

The harsh expression falls from his face as he turns back to face Belle. “Yes.”

“I know what's wrong with Ruby.” She shows him the bucket.

Ramsay looks into the bucket and his eyes fall on Ruby’s not so desirable catch. “What the hell is this?”

“That’s an octopus and a herring,” Belle answers.

“Yes, I know what they are, dearie, but I don't understand.” He knew there was a chance that Ruby wouldn't have the best of luck, but he didn't think it would be this bad. They have no selections. He was hoping they'd at least have a choice in choosing which fish they’d like to cook, but sadly, that's it's not the case.

“This is what she caught.” Belle closes the bucket and hands it to a crew member to place over ice and retakes her set next to Ramsay by the fire.

“And that's excluding the net, the seaweed and the lemon shark I caught,” Ruby chimes him, stepping out from the tent.

“You were out there almost five hours.” Ramsay tries to wrap his head around the situation. “What happened?”

“It was freakin brutal.” Ruby plops down before the warm fire. “That's what happened. Killian was out there like a fishing machine, catching fish left and right and I'm sitting there with my pole not catching anything,” Ruby explains. This was her worst day in the whole competition. “I didn't even get that octopus until right before we left.”

“If you just got the octopus, than when did you get the herring?” Ramsay asks.

“Funny thing about that.” Ruby takes off her shoes and tosses them by the tent. “Killian gave it to me.”

“What?” Belle finds that very hard to believe.

“Yep. He did. Believe it or not.” She massages her aching feet. “I wasn't catching anything and we were both ready to go. There's nothing in the rules against it so he gave it me. We all know I wasn't gonna catch anything else.”

Ramsay sits motionless, jaw dropped to the floor. He knows Killian gave her the fish just to get under his skin. Only he's not going to let it. He’ll take this small oily fish and make the best dish he possibly can with it, then shove it down Killain's throat… Well… After the judges taste it first.

“Alright,” Ramsay shakes his head, pulling himself back to earth. “This is what we have.”

“Yes,” the ladies answer their team captain.

“So we have to make the best plates we can with it.”

“With an octopus and a herring?” These are not the favors Belle saw in their future.

“That's all we have until you and I collect the shellfish in the morning,” Ramsay replies and looks to Ruby. “After you clean yourself up and relax a bit, we’ll go over some of the ideas we came up with while you were gone.”

“Alright,” Ruby nods.

“We need to see if any of the flavor profiles will go work the fish you brought. I think it's best if we all do that together.”

“Okay.” Belle crawl to their cooking equipment and takes hold of a pot. “I'll put on some tea for us.”

“That would be nice, Belle. Thank you.” Ramsay smiles.

“You're welcome.” Belle turns to the blue team's camp, stands on her knees and waves her arms in the air. “Thanks for the fish! We're gonna kick your butts with it!”, she shouts across the beach, antagonizing her opponents.

“I doubt it!”, Killian answers back.

Belle laughs as she pulls out the gallon of fresh water from their food and drink resources. Chef Regina drop off the care packages to each camp a few hours ago.

##  **\-----**

After planning their menus and cooking a campfire dinner, all the contestants settle into their tents for the night.

The three members of the red team lay lined in a row. Ruby is snuggled comfortably under her sleeping bag on the right side of the tent. After the day she’s had, it would only take an earthquake to wake her from this slumber.

Ramsay is on the left side of the tent. Thinking about the explainable encounter he had earlier with Belle. Holding her hand was the most intense connection he's had in years.  

Belle lays awake on her back in the middle of the tent, staring at the ceiling and wondering if she's up alone. “Ramsey?”, she whispers, turning her body towards him. “Are you asleep?”

He sniffs and pulls the sleeping bag up to his chin. He isn't sure of he should answer or pretend to be resting.

“Ramsay?”, she speaks softly again.

Her hushed voice is so beautiful and he truly wants to know what she has to say. But what happened between them was so strange and unpredictable, that he’s trying to convince himself that it didn't happen.

“Sorry for bothering you. Goodnight.”

“Wait, Belle,” he finally replies with a whisper. He can't let the night end without hearing what's on her mind.

“Were you sleep?”, she asks.

He laughs to himself. How can he be asleep if he just answered her? “No, I'm not sleep.” He turns to her, keeping himself covered under the sleeper.

“Neither am I… Would you mind talking to me for a while?”

“We’ve been talking to each other all day.”

“Yeah I know, but it's been about the competition and food. I don't wanna talk about that stuff.”

“Well, what do you wanna talk about?”

“Last night on the balcony, you didn't really talk about yourself.”

“Yes, I know.” Talking about himself isn't his favorite subject.

“I’d like to talk about you, or at least hear something about you.”

“Why, Belle?”

“I don't know.” She shrugs her shoulder. “I guess I want to be your friend.”

A friend? The last thing he thought he'd make in this competition is a friend.

Ramsay takes a deep breath and sighs out quietly. “I don't know what to say,” he murmurs. “I don't know what you what to know.”

Belle has the perfect solution to get things going. “How about I ask you questions and you answer. I won't tell anyone what you tell me.” She's noticed that Ramsay has an issue with trust and she want him to trust her.

He thinks for a moment. He wants to get to know her, but that can't happen if she doesn't get a chance to know him as well. “Alright,” he agrees to the game.

“I'll start off easy. Okay?”

“Are they supposed to get harder?”

“I don't know. I haven't decided yet, but I'll let you know if they do.”

“Okay, that's fine.”

“Okay?” She needs him to be sure.

“Yes, yes let's start.”

“Umm…”, she hums. “What's your favorite color?”

He licks his lips and answers softly, “Red… No, green…”. He pauses and thinks of the most gorgeous color he's had the pleasure of seeing all day.  “No, blue… Definitely blue.” The lovely hue of Belle's eyes.

Belle smiles, covering her toothy grin under the sleeping bag. That's one of her favorites colors too. “Okay…”. She pulls the sleeper from her lips. “What was your favorite thing to eat as boy?”

“I loved meat pies. I still do.”

“They are delicious. Maybe you could make some for me someday.”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss French.”

“I can't wait.” She looks up at the ceiling, thinking of another question. “Umm,” she gazes back at him. “Have you ever been to Disneyland?”

“No,” he answers swiftly.

She lowers her brow with a smirk. “You're lying.”

“How do know I'm lying?”, answers with a sly grin of his own

“I don't know how, but I know you are.”

It doesn't seem like he can get anything past her. “Fine…”, he gives into her. “You're right. I am lying.”

“I knew it,” she giggles. “How many times have you been?”

“Three.”

“Did you go with anyone?”

“Yes. Every time I've been, I went with my son.”

Even though he appears to not be in Ramsay's life, Belle thinks it’s beautiful how close he hold his son to his heart.

“I'm going to ask a tougher one now,” she warns him just as she said she would. “It's probably not tougher, just more personal. Is that okay?”

“Yes, that's okay.” He’s a bit anxious to answer a personal question, but he wants hear what she has to ask.

“Are you single?”

Her question isn't a tough as he thought. “Yes I am,” he smiles. “Are you?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Have you had a girlfriend recently?”

Ramsay stops for a moment. He doesn't really want to go in this direction, but he answers her question truthfully. “No, my last relationship was marriage.”

“Oh… We don’t have to get into that.” She thinks of another question, something to steer the conversation away from the relationship status. Maybe he’ll be more willing to tell her a little about his son. “How old is your son?”

Ramsay looks up at the ceiling, licking his lips, thinking of the last time he saw his beloved boy. “Old enough to know what he wants,” he mumbles.  He thought he'd be more willing to go down this road, but now he's concerned that the questions will only get more personal and deep. It's nothing he's afraid of,. He thinks Belle is an incredible person and he wants to able to tell her some things. But he's just not ready to tear open old wounds. “I think I'm finished with the questions now.”

“Oh…”, she was afraid this might happen, him finding an excuse to end their conversation. It happened last night when she mentioned his son. She doesn't know why she did it again. “I'm sorry if I got too personal. I don't want to offend you.”

“You haven't, dearie. This was a nice talk,” he assures her. He doesn't want her to think she did anything wrong. “I am getting tired now and we have to get up early to collect shellfish together. If you want, you can ask me more questions then.”

A radiant smile lights upon her face. Collecting shells in the morning will be even more enjoyable now. “Alright, but the cameras are going to be on us tomorrow.”

“Just don't ask anything personal and if anything personal does come to mind, you can whisper it to me.”

“Okay,” she giggles at the thought of whispering in his ear. Such a delightful concept. “I will.”

“Good.” He fluffs his pillow. “I'm look forward to seeing you in the morning, Miss French,” he says, turning his back to her and faces the wall of the tent.

“You are?” She shifts, making herself more comfortable under the sleeper.

He closes his eyes and sighs out, “Yes.”

She another grin stretches upon her face as she closes her eyes and thinks of new questions to ask him in the morning. “Goodnight, Ramsay.”

  
“Goodnight, Belle.”


	6. Episode Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay Gold and Belle collect shells during high tide to have the ingredient they need to complete the team challenge and Belle learns a little more about the real Ramsay. The team challenge is competed and judged, then one team with face the dreaded pressure test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER!!!!! I had this set aside since March and I don’t know why I was having problem with it, but I did. And then I started working on others fics and this one got pushed back, three times, BUT IT’S HERE NOW! This whole verse is my love letter to @ripperblackstaff and I’m sorry for the wait, my dear friend. I hope you and all who read enjoy. I worked pretty damn hard on this one..... Anyways.... Happy reading!!

“Hey.” A woman's voice whispers as Ramsay Gold sleeps.

He’s dreams take him back like a time machine. Allowing him to travel to the years when his son was a young boy, chasing and catching dragonflies in their small backyard.

 

> _“Papa! Papa!” Five year old Neal Cassidy Gold, rushes towards his father with winged creatures in a small butterfly net. “I caught two!”_
> 
> _“You're so much better at this than I am, son.” Ramsay tassels his boy’s thick wavy hair. “Two, you say?” His eyes glistens, amazed by how beautiful his only child is. “And you caught them at the same time?”_
> 
> _“Yep!” Peeks up at his father beaming joyfully. “They were by the rose bushes.”_
> 
> _“You're gonna have to show me your dragonfly catching techniques.” Ramsay takes the net from his son, observing the tiny bugs. “I'm starting to think they gravitate towards you.”_
> 
> _“I don't have any tricks, papa,” he giggles. “They just came to me.”_
> 
> _“I think there is a trick, but you don't wanna tell your old pop.”_
> 
> _“Oh, papa…”_

“Hey,” the woman's voice speaks a little louder. But in Ramsay’s dream, the voice fades out into the distance.

Ramsay shifts in the sleeping bag, turning over on his back, but doesn't open his eyes. It's all quite serene sleeping on the beach with the sounds of the ocean outside of the tent. The orchestra of nature mixes beautifully with the peaceful dreams of his beloved Neal. Ramsay could stay in this state forever.

 

> _“Okay, papa, I do have one trick.” Neal takes his hand and leads him to the rose bushes._
> 
> _“I had a feeling you were holding out on me, son.”_
> 
> _They stop before the bushes and Neal plants his father in the same place where he caught the insects before._
> 
> _“Sometimes just standing still works best.” He takes back the net from Ramsay and releases the dragonflies he caught moments ago._
> 
> _They fly out into the sun, setting in a sky that’s painted with a kaleidoscope of orange and yellows. Grateful to be free from the young boy's net._
> 
> _“Now you use your dragonfly catching powers to get them back into the net, right?” Ramsay smirks, teasing his son._
> 
> _“No, papa!”, Neal snickers. His father can be silly at times. “I don't have powers.”_
> 
> _“Well, I can't see any other way you're catching the dragonflies. It has to be magic.”_
> 
> _“It's not magic.” He shakes his heads. “Just watch, papa.”_
> 
> _“Okay, son.”_

“Hey, team captain!”, the woman suddenly barks.

Ramsay pops open his eyes to find Chef Regina standing directly above him. “Ah!”, he yelps, startled by the sight. “Ch-chef?!” Quickly covers himself with the sleeper, wiping drool from his lip.

It’s the second time he's been scared awake in this competition. Unbelievable.

“I'm sorry about that, Ramsay,” Regina humbly apologizes. “I didn't mean to give you a fright.”

“It's alright, chef.” He sits up, rubbing his eyes. “At least you didn't give me a heart attack.”

“That's good to know.”

“But you nearly did.”

“I'm sorry,” she says with a smirk, tickled by his comment. “Please, wake up the members of your team that will be collecting shellfish and meet me at the shore.”

“Yes, chef.”

Regina promptly exits the tent.

Ramsay takes a deep breath, combing his fingers through his silver locks. He doesn't need a mirror to know of the extreme level of bedhead he's currently suffering. He was sleeping so soundly that it felt as though he was truly living in another time of his life.

He looks over to Belle and Ruby, finding them still fast asleep. He could have swore his screech would have woken up one of them. Apparently these ladies can sleep through anything.

Ramsay lays down on his side, wishing he could return to his dream, but there's still a competition to be won.

He stares at Belle, resting comfortably in her sleeping bag, cuddling the extra pillow she packed with her belongings. He tries to think of the best way to wake her, doesn't want to frighten her awake like the chef did to him.

“Belle,” he whispers, but she doesn't hear. He inches a bit closer, careful not to get too close. Doesn't want her waking up to find him in a position that’s inappropriately near. “Belle,” softly says again.

She smiles in her sleep, deep in a pleasant dream of her own.

Ramsay gazes at her, lost in the beauty of her delicate features. Her skin appears to be feather soft and radiant even under the shadow of the tent.

“Belle,” calls her name once more, but she doesn't budge.

He sighs, cutting his eyes up at the tent's ceiling, and out of the blue the perfect idea to wake her comes to mind. A little trick he's done hundreds of times to wake his son.

Ramsay lifts his right hand and gently scales his index finger down the bridge of her nose. He lightly wiggles the tip, tickling her awake.

Belle snorts and a toothy grin stretches upon her face. She he opens her eyes, discovering Ramsay laying before her. She isn't startled by his presents and finds his charming face a delightful sight to wake up to.

“Hey,” she says softly with a scratchy voice, rubbing the sandman’s dust from her eyes.

“Hey,” he scoots away from her. “My apologies, Miss French, for being in your space. I didn't want to scare you awake and I thought maybe you'd hear me better if I was a little closer, but that was not the case.”

“It's alright, Ramsay. I do tend to sleep a bit heavy,” she assures him, rubbing the tip of her nose. “I don't think I've ever been tickled awake like that,” she smiles, thinking of his gentle touch. “Thank you for waking me. I know we have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Yes we do, and you're welcome.” He’s cheeks bloom and he instantly sits up, hiding his blush. “The chef wants us to meet her down at the shore,” he says, taking a hold of his cane.

“Alright.” She stretches with a yawn and sits up beside him. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning, Belle.”

“Oh… So you do know my name is Belle,” she teases.

“Well of course I do.”

“I know you do.” She tilts in his direction, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

Ramsay rubs his shoulder, eyes widen with shock. Such a casual gesture she placed upon him. Unexpected, but not unwelcomed.

“It's just that you almost never call me Belle,” she continues to say.

“My apologies. I didn't know being called Miss French bothered you.”

“I'm not bothered by it,” she assures. “It just sounds less formal when you don't call me Miss French.”

“I'll try to remember that.”

“Please do.” She places her hand gently on his shoulder. “I am your friend, by the way,” she smiles.

“Yes,” he anxiously clears his throat. “We should be going.” Quickly unzips his sleeping bag.

It's still unbelievable that she's wants to be his friend. Every time she mentions it, it sends volts down his spine. He never entered this competition anticipating friendship. It's all still slapping him in the face.

“You're right, we should be going.” She pulls the sleeping bag off of her legs. “Do you need any help standing or walking out to the shore?”, she asks. “I know the sand can be difficult for you with your cane.”

“It can be, but I've got it. Thank you anyways, Belle.” He slowly stands to his feet.

“Okay,” she replies, cautiously watching him as he rises from the ground.

Losing a teammate to injury is the last thing their team needs. They're already at a slight disadvantage with their choice of fish to cook.

“I'll leave you the tent so you can change.” Ramsay staggers to the open tent flap. “But you should hurry before the tide comes in. We really need be heading out.”

“Oh.” Belle stands on her sleeping bag. “I'm not changing my clothes, not yet anyways. We're just going out there to get wet and muddy collecting shells. I’ll change afterwards.”

“Oh… You're right,” he glares at her, a bit unsettled. Never realized how grimy this challenge truly was until now. “We are going to get wet and muddy.”

“Don't worry, Ramsay,” she snickers, stepping by his side.

Belle thought his expression of dread was adorable. He has absolutely nothing to worry about. She is more than willing to do most of the dirty work, if he isn't up to the task. She's been looking forward to playing in the mud since the challenge was announced.

“It's going to be fun,” she assure him, beaming a friendly smile. “And we're going to get a chance to know each other a little more,”

“Yes, we are,” he says with a nod.

Ramsay was secretly hoping she had forgotten about the chat they planned during the collection of the shellfish. He's a bit weary of the questions his new friend might ask while the cameras are rolling. He's spent the entire competition keeping to himself, hiding his personal life from the other competitors and the show. But now he must open up to Belle before the cameras.

He wants her to have this chance to get to know him, but he can't fight off the dread brewing in the depths of his stomach. And even though he's fully clothed, he feels like he's going to be exposed.

Ramsay is, however, going to try to keep his composer. He's already learned so much about Belle, and he thinks it's time for her to learn a little more about him.

“I can't wait.” She opens the flap door. “Ready to go?”

“Oh… Yes,” he answers, nodding his head, pulling himself out of a moment of deep thought. “After you, Belle.”

“Thank you,” she grins, stepping out of the tent. Looking forward to the fish they'll catch and talking to her friend.

Ramsay Gold, follows behind her.

##  **\-----**

Outside of their tents and under the dark sky of a cool early morning, Zelena, Emma, Ramsay and Belle meet up with Chef Regina by a cluster of rocks along the shore line.

Regina hands them each a metal bucket full of seaweed and a waterproof flashlight to both team captains. She then gives them quick instructions on what to look for along the rocks. As well as where to find different species of shellfish and how to make sure their specimens are still alive.

Nothing worse, or more dangerous, than cooking and eating fresh shellfish that you didn't kill yourself.

Chef Regina gives a demonstration by collecting four mussels she finds attached to the side of a large boulder. She then returns her attention back to the contestants and the shows camera crew.

“At least you all have one to start with,” she chuckles, dropping one of the shellfish into the bottom of each of their seaweed lined buckles. “You have until the tide comes in to collect as much as you need…. Good luck!”, she announces and makes her way back to the comfort of her tent.

The contestants gawk at each other for a moment. Chef Regina’s instructions flew by a lot faster than expected. None of them are fishers and have never had to collect their own shellfish, but most of them are eager to try.

“Yes….” Zelena says, stepping up to Belle, staring coldly into her blue eyes. Attempting another session of intimidating her biggest competition. “Good luck, losers.” She quickly turns, flipping her long fiery hair around her shoulder, and marches towards the furthest rocks.

Emma rolls her eyes and slowly follows her team captain. The sun isn’t even up and Zelena has already started her pettiness.

“It doesn’t matter who says it, it always sounds sarcastic,” Belle sighs, breaking the silence between her and Ramsay.

“What do you mean?”, he asks, puzzled by her odd choice of words.

“Good luck. No matter who says it, it always sounds like sarcasm,” she clarifies.

“Well… she was being sarcastic. Didn’t you catch that losers part at the end?”

“Oh…,” she giggles, glancing in his direction. “You’re talking about Zelena. I didn’t even notice she had said anything.” Flashes a sly smirk. “I was talking about the chef.” Winks as she steps away to start their collection.

Ramsay snickers to himself and shuffles behind Belle. Pleased that she isn’t allowing Zelena to get under her skin.

Belle begins their search in the area Chef Regina found the mussels. She figured a few more shouldn't be far behind in this region.

She rolls up the pants of her pajamas bottoms and steps out into the cold shallow water.

Ramsay stands with his feet still dry on the beach, flashing the light in Belle’s direction, watching her go all in on the search for shells.

She rests the metal bucket on one of the small rocks and digs under what seems to be miles of seaweed.

“Belle?”, he seeks her attention, clutching tightly to his flashlight and cane. “I'm not sure how we're going to do this.” He glances over at Zelena and Emma as they claim over large boulders. “I can't really climb over the rocks.”

“We don't have to climb over any of those large rocks.” She looks up at him, chucking seaweed over her right shoulder. “Where we are now should be perfect. These rocks here are normally under water during high tide. I'm sure we'll find a colony of mussels.”

“Really?”

“Yep, I'm sure of it.” She tosses more seaweed out of her way.  “Zelena is probably going to search every rock and crevices for what she's looking for. She was very specific about the type of fish she wanted Killian to bring back from the fishing trip. I'm sure she's the same way with the shellfish and she’s most likely looking for a certain type that aren't mussels…. I mean, did you see her face when the chef dropped a mussel into her bucket?”

“How could I forget it. She looked utterly disgusted.”

“Mhm…. Which is why I think is the reason she's way over there and not taking up the gold mine we obviously have here. That's only going to leave them out here, digging in the muck, much longer.”

“I think you're right about that.”

“I'm just really happy you wanted to do a mussel dish. That was brilliant thinking of you, especially for a challenge like this. We don't have to find anything fancy. We just need to make something delicious.”

“Thank you, Belle.”

“Don't thank me. You're the team captain, you're supposed to be brilliant.”

Ramsay Gold’s cheeks bloom pink with a gleam in his eyes. He can’t believe she called him brilliant, twice. It’s been a lifetime since he’s met anyone so sweet.

He stands in a stricken gaze, admiring the sight of Belle working elbows deep in seaweed. Nothing about what he’s witnessing should be attractive, but he can’t help but to think otherwise.

While she works like a fisherman, his mind wonders of what her lips might taste like. He isn’t quite sure why such a random thought popped into his mind, but he isn’t displeased by it. He’s seen her moisten her lips several times with a vanilla bean lip balm and he wouldn’t be surprised if they tasted just like the second most expensive spice in the world.

All of a sudden, Ramsay remembers that the cameras are filming every moment and he quickly clears his face of any emotion. Talking to Belle has made him forget that they’re filming a television show.

He gives the camera a stern glare and sticks his cane securely into the sand. Hoping this seemingly threatening display will erase any gushy looks they may have captured on his face, but it doesn’t.

Since there's nothing he can do about what the cameras capture on film, Ramsay finally decides get to work. He sits his bucket down on the beach and rolls up the legs of his pants. “You need some help, Belle,” he says, retaking a hold of the bucket and limps to her, leaving his cane behind.

“I was wondering when you'd join. I thought your feet would stay dry this whole time.”

“Searching for all the mussels by yourself wouldn't have been right.” He rests his bucket next to hers and positions the flashlight on the rock so that they have light without having to hold it.

“But I wouldn't have mind. You have a disability and I understand an injury like that could be affected by the cold. And the water is pretty cold this morning.”

“It is, but it's alright, Belle. As long as we're not climbing, I'm fine.”

“No, we're not climbing.”

“Good.”

The sun slowly rises and the tide inches in, while Ramsay and Belle search every rock for live mussels. After a half hour of looking, they finally find a colony that will provide enough seafood for their dish.

As they collect the mussels, carefully removing them without chipping their shells, Belle thinks about her brief talk with Ramsay last night in the tent and how she made the mistake of asking him about his son. If she wants to get to know him, she now knows that it's best to keep that topic out of their conversation. It completely shuts him off and that's the last thing she wants to happen. She has a few questions in her mind that's she's hoping will keep him talking and make him feel more comfortable with her.

“I've always liked your accent, Ramsay,” she complements him. Slowing easing him into her questions without flat out asking him about himself. She understands that she must tread lightly.

“Thank you, Belle.” He drops another mussel into her bucket. “I like yours as well.”

“That's sweet of you to say.”

“It's only the truth.”

“Is your dialect unique to where you grew up?” She already knows the answer to this questions, but she asks hoping he will reveal his hometown.

“Yes, but aren't all accents that way?”

“Yes, that's true,” she smirks, placing more shells into her bucket. “I'm just trying to think of what part of Scotland you're from. I've heard a lot of accents from actors from Glasgow and I'm trying to remember if yours sound like theirs.”

“Well, your memory is correct. I am from Glasgow,” he answers.

“Oh, really?” She smiles, happy to finally know where he grew up and that her plan of being subtle appears to be working. And though their bare feet are cold from the salty waters, he sounds so relaxed speaking freely with her.

“Mhm,” he nods.

“Scotland is such a beautiful country. I bet you miss it.”

“I do sometimes, but I like Storybrooke and being in the big city. I didn't live in the city in Scotland.”

“Oh….” Her eyes widen and she accidentally drops the mussel  from her hand and the shell chips on the rock when it lands. She didn't expect him to reveal so much with one comment. It took her completely by surprise. “So you lived on the countryside? Like a farm?” She hurls the broken shell over her shoulder, sending it back into the ocean.

“Yes, something like that.”

“That's nice.”

“It was at times.”

“Is that why you love food so much?”

“Yes, I learned a lot from my mothers,” he answers and instantly realizes that she has found a way of getting him to talk about himself. How did he not notice this before? “Can I ask you something, Belle?” He glances at her, placing another shell in the bucket.

“Sure.” She tops her bucket of mussels with some of the seaweed floating around them.

“Is this your way of asking me the questions to get to know me?”

“Oh…. ” She smiles and gazes down at her bucket, concealing her blush. “So you caught on?”

“Yes.”

“I didn't want to ask you questions back to back, like I was reading from a list.” She fidgets with her anxious hands, feeling she's done something to turn him off.

“Well, I like your subtle approach.”

“You do?” She beams up at him with a toothy grin. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He blushes again. His cheeks have never bloomed this much before sunrise. “I was a little worried about how this would go.”

“You don't have to worry about anything with me, Ramsay. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I don't feel uncomfortable with you, Belle.”

“You don't?”

“Not any more.” He doesn't know how she does it, but she makes him feel like they're the only two people on the beach. And he doesn't want this feeling to end.

An involuntary snort escapes from her and she smiles brighter than the rising sun. Having this level of trust in their bidding friendship is all she ever wanted. “Can I keep asking you my questions?”, she inquires.

“Yes,” he answers honestly. “You can keep asking me.”

Belle looks down at their bucket of mussels and both of them are nearly full. “I think we have enough mussels for our dish, would you like to continue talking on the beach?”

“I'd love that, Belle.”

She collects their buckets and they both make their way back to dry land.

Sitting on the white sands of Neverland Beach and watching the sun rise over the horizon, Belle and Ramsay engage in the longest conversation, that isn't about a cooking challenge, they've ever had together. Belle learns more of Ramsay’s passion for cooking meats and how it's connected to his early life in Scotland. He also shares with her some of the items in his enormous collection of antiques cooking supplies and how a vintage chef’s knife is one of his most valuable items.

The camera crew can't get enough of his magical moment unfolding before them. Getting Ramsay to talk about something other than how he's going to win this whole competition, has been a hurdle the producers couldn't get over. There's something about filming Ramsay and Belle together that could add a little something special to this episode.

The tide rises and all the rocks Belle and Ramsay found their mussels are no longer visible. Ramsay decides to end their friendly conversation and get back to the world of the competition. They have a lot of planning to still do for the challenge. What the hell will they ever make with herring and octopus as their other proteins?

“I think we should start heading back to camp, Belle,” Ramsay says, feeling a little glum about ending their chat.

“Yeah, I think you're right, team captain. We still have some things to get in order.” She stands to her feet and offer him her hand to help him up to his own.

He accepts her gesture and takes her hand, slowly, but safely, standing on the sand.

“There you go.” She wipes the sand from the back of her pants.

“Thank you, Belle.” He pulls his cane out from sand. “This was actually one of the most pleasurable and relaxing moments I've had here.”

“You really feel that way?”

“Yes, Belle.”

“I feel exactly the same. It was relaxing just talking, but now we have to go back into the heat of the competition. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes, I am, because I know we're going to win.”

“We are.” She grins with a slight nod and picks up both buckets of mussels. They then tread back to their camp, side by side.

“Oh, Belle?” Ramsay suddenly stops half way back to camp. “We left our flashlight out on the rocks. It's in the ocean now.”

“Oops,” Belle guffaws at her reply and shrugs. “Can't do anything about it now.”

“At least it's waterproof,” he jokes and nether of them can help but feel tricked by what they've done.

They both return to camp, laughing at their meager mistake.

##  **\-----**

The contestants are given time to freshen up from their morning adventure and to make themselves breakfast from the care packages that were dropped off at their camps.

It's now ten a.m. and everyone is ready for the cooking portion of the team challenge to begin.

Chef Regina calls the teams to her tent to make one last brief announcement.

“Lunch starts at twelve o'clock. You all have two hours to cook for the other judges and myself the best seafood lunch you have ever made. Remember that this challenge calls for two fish dishes and one shellfish. This is exactly what we expect to be served…. Does anyone have any last question?”

“No, chef,” everyone answers.

“Well then…. Your cooking time starts….” She glances at the watch on her right wrist. “Now!”

All the contestants rush back to their camps and prepare their dishes.

Ramsay organizes his team and recaps with them the menu he thinks will work with the fish they have. He believes the challenge will go smoothly if everyone is able to have creative control over his menu items. He did chose them to join his team for their own personal style and he wants them to use their talents. He discusses the dishes he wants to serve and leaves it up to his team members to put their own spin on them.

Ramsay plans to start the judges lunch with a fresh octopus salad and believes Belle can handle their most difficult protein. With her refreshing take on classics, he has no doubt she will make something delicious.

Following the salad will be the herring dish from Ruby. A classic preparation for herring is to fry and Ramsay knows this is the perfect place for Ruby to add her spicy touch to their lunch.

Lastly, Ramsey takes up the mussel dish which will be the main course of their meal. He’s going to attempt a bold technique for cooking on the beach. Fresh pasta is something the judges will not be expecting in a challenge like this. He's hoping that taking on such a difficult task on the grainy sands will skyrocket their team to victory.

“Is everyone okay with what they're going?” Ramsay asks, standing in front of their large crate of food the judges have giving them to work with.

“Yes,” Ruby and Belle answer.

“We have two hours and that octopus is going to need to poach for half of our time. So let's get to work,” he opens their crate of ingredients and everyone gets started on their cooking.

  
Across the beach at the blue team's camp, Zelena Greene is dictating and micromanaging everything.  
  
“I want this to be perfect. I don't what anything being done other than the way I tell you to do it,” she barks at her team members. “I'm going to need fish carcasses for the light soup I have planned. So Killain I want you to fillet the halibut so that I can get the bones to start on the fish stock….  Emma I need you to start getting everything together for the crab boil now.”  
  
Though their team captain is a bit on the pushy side and they rather toss her in the ocean with the sharks, Emma and Killian do get to work.

Each camp kitchen is provided with the same heat sources; two heavy duty propane burners, one charcoal grill and their campfire to use as additional heat. There’s no electricity provided in this challenge, so all other cooking tools are hand tools.

Five minutes into the challenge, Belle has her octopus cleaned and she prepares it further for the boiling water. She lays the clean octopus on one of their cutting boards and uses an unopened can of vine ripen tomato purée as a mallet. Beating the octopus into tender submission.

Belle has never worked with octopus, but she's read many cookbooks featuring the invertebrate bottom feeder. A few recipes call for this technique to help the octopus remain tender.

She then takes her eight legged specimen to the pot of water and dips it in the boiling liquid for ten seconds. She lift it back out and repeats the process three more times. Belle finally submerges the octopus in the liquid and covers it with a lid, reducing the heat to a simmer.

“I have the octopus poaching," Belle announces to her team. “Now I just have to make my sauce and put together the salad greens, then I'm free to help anyone.”

“I'll need your help when you're free. These muscles need to be cleaned,” Ramsay replies, sitting on the sandy floor next to the crate top they've made as their table. He uses a classic handmade pasta technique by cracking two eggs into a well of flour and adding the other wet ingredients.

“I can do that in ten minutes,” she answers.

“Thank you, Belle.” He whisks the mixer of eggs, water, and olive oil in the center of the flour well with a fork, careful not to break the walls. “Oh,” he glances back up at Belle. “What kind of sauce did you decide on making?”

“I found this lovely tangerine juice and honey in the crate.” She removes a sauce pan from their box of cooking equipment. “So I decided on making a nice sweet and savory sauce that I think will pair well with the charred flavor of the grilled octopus.”

“That sounds amazing and very creative.” He sits the fork down and carefully mixes in the flour with his hands, slowly creating a mass of dough. Once it comes together he starts the kneads process.

“Thank you, Ramsay. I hope it tastes amazing.”

“I’m sure it will,” he smiles and turns his attention to the other member of his team. “Ruby, what did you think of for the fried herring?”

“I thought just serving it fried on a plate would be boring. And I know you wanted the first two courses to feel like appetizers. So I'm going with a spicy herring po boy slider with a cooling potato salad on the side.”

“It's a great idea, but just one thing.” Ramsay covers the freshly made pasta dough with another bowl and sets it to the side to rest. “I wouldn't make a heavy potato salad, keep it light. Especially if you’re putting an aioli on the slider. I don't think it needs two creamy components. ”

“You’re right, glad you brought that to my attention. With the spicy tartar sauce and the fish being fried I think a creamy potato salad will make the dish heavy. I can rethink the salad and make it lighter.”

“Please, do.”

“No problem, boss.” Ruby salutes him and drop her multi colored fingerling potatoes into the boiling water on the grill.

Back on the blue team each member is focused on the tasks Zelena has assigned them. Those she isn't allowing anyone, but herself, to have a say on what's being served, she has taken into account Killian’s seafood expertise and created her menu accordingly.

Along with the fish soup and crab boil, the blue team will also serve the judges a salt crusted whole red snapper. Killian knows exactly how to bake a whole salt crusted fish on a charcoal grill. So Zelena has giving him full rein over cooking their star dish. She knows the red team wouldn't dream of cooking whole fish (Thanks to Ruby’s poor fishing skills, they don’t have a vast range of fish to choose from like Zelena’s team.) and Killian's salt crusted champion will blow anything Ramsay’s team is planning out of the water.

“They have crab,” Belle whispers in Ramsay's ear, returning the cleaned mussels to him. “Do you think we should have looked for something else.” She sits on her knees next to him, double checking the mussels to make sure no traces of the beard (Little brown threats of what looks like seaweed, attached where the two halfs of the shells meet.) are left behind. “Their time out there on the rocks seems to have paid off for them,” she goes on to say. “They got something really amazing.”

“No, Belle, I don't think we should have looked for anything else. I have no regrets about our choice. The mussels we found are beautiful.” He mixes the herb butter that he'll spread upon the char toasted french bread he'll serve alongside his handmade pasta. “Let's just focus on what we’re doing and not worry about them.”

“Alright.”

“We're doing fine, Belle,” he assures her.

“Okay, thanks for that. I was just a little nervous.”

“You don't have anything to be nervous about. Our menu is incredible and full of creativity,” he says truthfully. Every dish they will serve he would stand by proudly. “All Zelena can make are murky soups and stews.”

“You're right,” she snorts. She didn't expect him to make a joke.

“I know I am,” he says with a sly smirk.

“Okay, I feel a lot better now.”

“Good.”

The final hour of the challenge ticks by, as the production crew set up the table where the judges will enjoy their fresh seafood lunch. Chef Graham and David Nolan arrive on the beach just in time to watch the contestants finish their dishes.

“Everything looks and smells amazing,” Chef Graham says, taking in the savory aroma of fresh cooked seafood blowing in the salty ocean air.

“I don't know what I'm looking forward to more. Ruby’s fish sandwich, which I know will have her signature spicy kick that I just love,” David comments. “Or that salt crusted fish on the blue team.”

“I think our jobs will be tough this time around. Everyone has stepped up their game, and from here, I don't think anyone has faltered,” Regina replies.

“We won't know if that’s true until we taste,” David adds.

“That's very true,” she nods.

The judges turn their attention back to the ongoing challenge, as the teams scramble to finish while the minutes dwindle down.

Belle removes the octopus tentacles from the grill, which she chard with the tangerine honey sauce, and places two on three white plates. She cut off the tip of one of the extra tentacles and dashes towards Ramsay.

He tosses a large pan of pasta and perfectly cook white wine steamed mussels, like a professional, classically, trained chef.

She watches and waits for him to rest the pan safely back on the heat. Utterly astounded by how he coats each artfully thin strand of pasta with the aromatic sauce.

She saw him rolling the dough out with a wine bottle. How the hell did he get it so thin? It isn't just steaks this Scottish carnivore can cook.

As soon as he rests the pan back on the heat, and she pulls herself out of the daze of watching perfect pasta flying through the air, Belle shoves the octopus into his mouth.

“Taste this please,” she says, without giving him a chance to see what he just ate.

Ramsay's eyes widen as his palate is assaulted with a sweet and savory flavor. He can tell by the feel of the food in his mouth that's it's the octopus she forced down his gullet.

“It's very delicious, Belle,” he finally answers, licking the sauce from his lips.

“Is it chewy?”

“No, its tender. You cooked it well.”

“Thank you,” she says and rushes back to her plates.

Belle sprinkles crispy bacon over each octopus and adds baby arugula and microgreens. She then lightly drizzles the plates with more of the sauce, seasons with salt and pepper, then wipes off any smudges around the rim with a clean towel. After making sure every component is on her dish, she steps over to assist Ramsay and Ruby.

Killian opens the grill and his nose his kissed with the tantalizing aroma of baked salted fish. He carefully takes out the best salt crusted red snapper he's cooked in his life, and places them on a large platter Zelena has adorned with the pan roasted artichokes Emma prepared. They won't be able to see the fish until they crack open the salt crust at table side, but everyone on the team knows it's pure perfection.

The final seconds are among them and Chef Regina counts down. “Ten…. Nine…. Eight….”

Ramsay checks his dish for any unopened mussels and sees that each one is flawlessly cooked. He finishes with freshly chopped parsley, a lemon wedge and the buttery toasted French baguette, then observes the other plates on his team. He tasted almost every element during the cooking process and believes everything he's tried is phenomenal.

Each team can taste the win in their grasp.

“Three… Two… One….,” Regina completes her counting. “Stop your cooking.”

Seafood team challenge on the beach; fucking nailed.

##  **\-----**

At the dining table on a small platform stage looking over the ocean, Zelena’s team is first before the judges.

“To start things off on this fabulous lunch I made a light halibut and chickpea soup,” Zelena says as the servers sit the soup before the judges. “It features the fresh aromatic fragrance of fennel and rosemary, finished with a drizzle of olive oil and chopped parsley, served alongside a nice piece of crusty sourdough.”

The judges taste without giving any opinions and the next dish is sat before them.

“After finding such beautiful crabs this morning and knowing that our ingredients crates had lovely smoked sausages, I was inspired by the American south,” Zelena explains

The judges smell the dish, glance over it with scrutinizing eyes and slowly dive into their bowls.

“So here you'll have our Carolina crab boil with that amazing sausage, corn, onions, and potatoes. All seasoned with the classic boil spices of mustard seed, coriander, cayenne, bay leaves, dill seed, and allspice. Served elegantly in a bowl with all the crabs cracked open for easier eating.”  

The judges seem please, but their expressions are hard to read.

“Lastly is a my highlight dish, salt and herb crusted whole red snapper.”

The judges crack into the dome protecting the moist fish and their senses are hits with a floral aroma of herbs and citrus.

“I mixed the kosher salt dome with chopped fresh parsley, tarragon, basil, cilantro, grated lemon zest, orange zest, and freshly ground black pepper. Covered the fish and baked it on the grill and served with pan roasted artichoke. Please enjoy.” Zelena concludes her presentation, then she and her team leave the judges on their own to finish.

##  **\-----**

After the judges discuss the first half of their lunch, the table is cleared for the red team to present their offerings.

Ramsay stands before the table with his teammates side by side, leaning on his cane, a bit anxious of the events taking place. He isn't uneasy over what the judges might think, but instead of what his son might think.

After the vivid dream he had this morning, he only wants to come out on top and show his boy (If he's watching the show.) that he can be a father he can be proud of.

“First, we'd like to start with Belle’s exquisite charred octopus salad with microgreens and a savory tangerine sauce.” Ramsay says, keeping his ingredient list short. He knows that Zelena’s presentation was long winded and he wants the judges to move on quickly to the next dish. He doesn't want them waiting on their food any longer than they already have.

“What's in the sauce?”, Regina asks, tasting it on the tip on her knife.

“I believe it's reduced tangerine juice, honey, red wine vinegar, a bit of Dijon, anchovies, canola oil with salt and freshly ground black pepper.”

“Hmm…. Okay,” Regina nods and cuts into an octopus tentacle.

The judges chew with emotionless expression and the next course is brought before them.

“Here is Ruby’s fried herring po boy sliders with a spicy cayenne tartar sauce. Served alongside a refreshing lemon-herb potato salad; dressed with lemon zest, Dijon, Kalamata olives, parsley, basil, and chives.”

A faint smile lights upon David’s face that he just can’t hide. There's something about Ruby’s kicked up cooking that he finds himself addicted to each week.

Chef Graham Herbert, dives for his glass of water after one bite from the sandwich.

Belle instantly takes a hold of Ruby's hand, calming her jitters. She appears to be nervous after witnessing the mixed signals from the judges.

Ramsay presents their last dish as it's being served. “Ending today's lunch is my handmade pasta and mussels - served in the shells - with a white wine, saffron, garlic, lemon and butter sauce.”

“You made pasta out here with no electrical equipment?” David asks, stunned.

“Yes, sir.”

“I know that we're trying to be ominous and mysterious with not really commenting on each course, but I must say this is absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you, sir. Please enjoy,” Ramsay nods and turns to Belle with a faint smile on his face. He knew the pasta would be their secret weapon.

The red team leaves the judges to their deliberations.

As Ramsay makes his way back to the tent to start gathering his things to head back to the loft, Killian stops him in his tracks.

“Anyone can make a pasta, crocodile,” he snarls, envious of the comments he overheard from David.

“Then why didn't you make one?” Ramsay snarks back, shifting all his weight on the cane.

Killian takes a few heavy breaths through his flared nose, staring daggers into Ramsay’s eyes. He knows he had no real control over their menu and probably wouldn't have made a pasta anyhow. He quickly turns away and storms to the blue team's tent. He doesn't need to explain himself to a three legged lizard man.

##  **\-----**

The judges remain sitting at the table, talking over the lunch they've experienced.

“One thing we did say earlier revealed to be true, they did step up their game,” David says.

“That's true,” Regina agrees.

“I loved, loved, loved everything on the red team from start to finish. Belle’s octopus was soooo tender….” David leans over the table and glances at Regina, sitting on the opposite end from him. “How on earth did they end up with an octopus by the way?”

“We’ll have to check the tape playback. I'm sure it’s an interesting story,” she answers.

“Yes, but no matter how they ended up with it, it was prepared by the right person. I don't think anyone else on that team could have handled that protein the way she did,” Chef Graham adds.

“I have to disagree,” Regina chimes in. “I think Ramsay could have handled it, but sadly we don't know what he would have done. But he did present the most beautiful plate of handmade pasta I've seen on this show. Every strand was thin and looked to be cut from a pasta maker, but there was not one here! He did that all by hand. That man has the knife skills of a samurai. And that dish looked and tasted unbelievable.

The two male judges nod simultaneously.

“Well, let's talk about the black sheep of the team,” Graham mumbles, taking a sip of water.

“Ruby?....” David says astounded, almost offended. “Ruby's dish was phenomenal. That was Ruby on a plate at her best. There's was nothing I would change.”

“Though it was delicious, was it creative enough?” Regina questions.

“For Ruby? Yes, I absolutely think it was,” David answers immediately.

“It was too spicy and I couldn't eat it.” Graham takes another drink of water, feeling the back of his throat engulf in flames just thinking about the sandwich.

“I have to agree. I was a tad too spicy and I do think Ruby could have done something different.” Regina respectively argues. “Her team captain should have pushed her to think outside the box and I think they missed a big opportunity.”

“I agree,” Graham nods.

“I have to disagree,” David folds his hands on the table.

“Well, agree or not, we have to talk about the blue team.” Regina moves the debate along. “While we're on the subject of people in their comfort zone, Zelena made another soup.”

“Yes, but it was flawless,” Graham admits. “It was clean tasting and the halibut was cooked to perfection. Sometimes being in your comfort zone isn't a bad thing if what come out is incredible.”

“It's not a bad thing if you’re not Ruby.”

“I didn't say that, David,” Graham defends. “There would have been nothing wrong with Ruby’s dish if it was edible, but to me, I'm sorry it wasn't.”

“Gentlemen, please, let's just move on.” Regina referees.

“Okay, fine.” Graham throws his hands in the air, like someone who given up on a fight. “I will admit, I do kinda feel like we were served two soups from the blue team.”

“Well the thing about that is, we weren't served any of the liquid from the boil. Growing up in the south, I've had a few crab and crawfish boils in my day.” David says with a chuckle. “The liquid is just used as a process of cooking and seasoning the crabs.”

“Okay, that's true,” Graham nods. Being from Ireland, Graham's never heard of a crab boil before coming to the states. “Well, you can tell that Zelena had her say with everything on that menu, but the salt crusted snapper was all Killian and it was brilliant.”

“It's was the best tasting thing from both teams, hands down.” Regina comments. “It was truly like eating the ocean and that was the taste we were looking for today. In fact, every dish on the blue team embraced the fish that was being used and I think that was because of Killian.”

“You may be right,” David concurs with a nod.

“Okay, I know this was a tough one, but I think we can make a decision with what we've discussed.” She says, bring an end to their conference.

“Mhm, I think so.” Graham stands from his seat. “Let's get ready to announce the winner.”

\-----

Once all the tents are packed up and the contestants belongings are put away in the jeeps that will drive them back to the studio, everyone gathers at the table on the platform to hear the winner and which team will be heading back to face the dreaded pressure test.

“Firstly we'd like to congratulate all of you for completing a difficult task. The challenge we put upon you was dawning, but you've all over came it in your own way.” Regina announces, starting a round of applause.

All the contests applaud…. Well, everyone but Ramsay Gold.

He stands motionless, clutching his cane with sweaty palms, ready to hear the winner in this instant.

“We were all impressed by the dishes that were served to us,” David continues to say. “but some were more impressive than others.”

“Zelena, you served us yet another soup, which we loved, but it was just another soup in your long list.” Chef Graham stands with his hands in his leather pocket. “And Ruby, your slider was so spicy that I couldn't eat it.”

“All the other dishes, however,” Regina takes over the announcement. “Hit the mark that we were expecting and there were so many different cooking techniques from both teams that we had to make our decision on taste alone.”

“That's correct,” David chimes him. “One team pushed their mark a little further, in taste, than the other…. And that team is….” He pauses, building up the anticipation in the contestants.

All wait with bated breath to hear what they've work so hard to for.

“The blue team.” David finally divulges. “Congratulation Zelena, Emma and Killian.”

The winning team roars in a celebratory cheer and Zelena hugs both members of her team.

Belle and Ruby offer them each a congratulations by shakes their hands.

Ramsay steps back and watch the celebration. Someone had to lose; it just happened to be him this time, but he isn't going to allow this loss to be what sends him home.  

“I knew I could beat you, crocodile.” Killian gloats, pulling himself out of Zelena's vice-like grip.

“You haven't beaten me yet,” Ramsay snarls through his uneven teeth. “This only shows that you can cook fish and we already knew that. I'm going to win this pressure test and be rid of you next week.”

“Okay, everyone,” David says over Zelena’s repetitive; _I won, I won, I won_. “Let's all head back to the studio.”

##  **\-----**

Back at the Masterchef studio, the winning team of the beach challenge await in the safety of the balcony above the kitchen. Watching the dredged pressure test unfold.

The judges stand down at the stage in the kitchen arena before the three contestants who will face elimination.

“This week we had six contestants and by the end of today's test, we will be down to five.” Chef Regina says, glancing up to the people in the balcony. “Today,” she looks back at the contestants down on the floor. “Only two of you will be in the dreaded pressure test and one of you will join the winning team to bask in the glory of the balcony.”

Ruby, Ramsay and Belle stand silent. They know that the judges like to twist the game, so they mentally prepare themselves for the next challenge being thrown at them.

“The person choosing to be safe will be chosen by your team.” Regina goes on to say, pointing to the former red team. “You will have one minute to decide which one of you will be joining the top five.”

Belle peeks at Ramsay and Ruby, wanting both of them to join in the top five, but she knows there's no way of that happening if she's to be among the ones moving forward. If she's to compete in this pressure test she's wants to do it against Ruby and not Ramsay.

Even though Belle thinks of both of them as friends, she still needs to insure that she will have a spot among the final two who will have a chance to win the whole competition. And to do that, she has to eliminate one of her former team mates.

Belle thinks Ruby will be the best opponent in securing her place in the next round of the game. Though she knows that she can defeat Ramsay overall, she doesn't want to face him while her skin in the competition is on the line.

“You're minute starts.” Graham looks up at the clock waiting for the second hand to hit the twelve. “Now!”

Ramsay turns to his team and they huddle around him. “I think the best way to do this is for me to point at each of us and we just say who we think should go up, then we can go from there.”

“Okay,” the ladies quickly agree.

Ramsay points to himself and says his vote first, “I think it should be Belle.” He then points to Ruby.

“Belle,” she gives her vote.

“What?”, Belle stands stunned and she stares silently for the final thirty seconds.

“Your time is up.” David calls out. “Team captain, who did you choose?”

“We chose Belle to be safe,” he answers.

“Why her?”, Regina asks.

“I was the team captain, and though I don't believe I failed my team, I shouldn't be safe,” he humbly explains. “I should see this thing all the way through.” He knows he could beat either one of them, but honestly, he isn't ready to see Belle go. “Belle was a beacon of hope on our team, who did anything to help both Ruby and I. She deserves to be safe.”

“Interesting.” Regina crosses her arms. “And why not Ruby?

“Though it wasn't something I think she did deliberately, I honestly believe Ruby crippled our team when she was fishing.” He finally reveals something he's kept to himself the whole time. “She could have stayed out and fished on her own and not taken the leftovers Killian tossed at her.”

“Ruby do you think that's true?”, Chef Graham questions.

“I'm someone that owns up to her mistakes,” she answers, glancing at each of the judges. “Had I stayed on that boat longer, we might have had different fish and we might have been the team on the balcony. But because I didn't, we’ll never know,” she says wholeheartedly. “That's the reason why I voted for Belle and not myself. I also believe that I can beat Ramsay in this test. So I'm not afraid.”  

Ramsay smirks, peeking at Ruby from the corner of his eye. “We’ll see about that, dearie.”

“Kick his ass, Ruby!” Killian cheers from the balcony.

“I'll try,” she answers back.

“You won't,” Ramsay snarks, shifting his weight to the left, standing with both hands on his cane.  

“Okay, Belle,” David hushes the debate. “You can go ahead and make your way up to the balcony.”  

Belle nods and joins the former blue team in the stands. She can sense tension between everyone in this moment. It's way too thick to cut with knife.

“Ruby, Ramsay, to your stations,” Regina directs them.

They step back to the cooking stations.

“Tonight's dreaded pressure test well require skill, baking skills.” David pauses for a moment, letting the idea of baking set in the contestants mind.

Nether Ruby or Ramsay classify themselves as bakers.

“I'll be right back.” David steps off the stage and treads back to the Masterchef pantry. Only to return rolling in a tray of towering baked goods. “This is a croquembouche,” he announces, stopping the tray before the platform stage. “This French dessert consisting of choux pastry balls filled with decedent custard, piled high into a cone and bound with threads of delicious caramel; is your test.”

“At your stations, you will find all the ingredients to make a croquembouche two feet tall.” Regina says, stepping down from the stage and stands next to the artfully constructed dessert. “You also have a basic recipe for this classic croquembouche.” She takes a ball from the display dish, breaking open the cream filled puff, showing the contestants what they need to stride for. “You will have ninety minutes to bake and construct your tower of sweets.” She eats the airy, cream filled puff, expressing pure bliss on her face. “Your cooking time begins….” She delicately wipes the crumbs from the corner of her lips. “Right now!”


End file.
